Once Upon a Duet
by emeraldgirl503
Summary: AU. Kurt and Blaine have both been living in NYC since college, but they've never met. That all changes one night in a karaoke bar...
1. Chapter 1

Kurt pushed open the plain metal door under the nondescript wooden sign, painted white with faded and peeling red lettering that simply read "WARBLERS." A smaller sign, clearly handmade and added as an afterthought, hung below it and said, "Karaoke."

Inside, the décor was exactly as the sign suggested it would be: plain and unassuming, the bar was the epitome of the expression "no frills." The walls were painted a dark gold color, with random markings and scuffs in various spots proving it had been a long time since a fresh coat of paint had been applied. The bar itself was just a long, simple, rounded wooden bar, dominating most of the space directly inside the door. To the right of the bar, a series of small wooden tables and chairs that had clearly seen better days surrounded an open area that was meant to serve as a dance floor. Along the far wall, though, was the reason Kurt and Rachel frequented this little hole-in-the-wall: a stage stretched the length of the room, with karaoke equipment set up. At the corner of the stage, a DJ stood behind a booth, taking sign-ups for karaoke while playing an assortment of music, mostly of the pop variety.

Though the bar didn't have much in the way of atmosphere, it always seemed to be pretty crowded, probably a testament to the lack of a cover at the door and the relatively cheap (at least for New York City) drink prices. Tonight was no exception, and Kurt felt Rachel slide her hand into his to avoid getting separated as they pushed their way toward the bar.

Kurt still wasn't sure how Rachel had stumbled upon the bar years ago when they were still in school, but he was glad she had. It had become something of a regular Friday night hangout for them. After a long week of failed auditions and jobs that were not nearly fulfilling, coming here and belting out a song or two in front of Warblers' usually boisterously supportive crowd was a great way to blow off some steam.

Kurt continued pulling Rachel through the crowd until Santana, the bartender, caught sight of them. As she poured drinks for another customer, Santana nodded at them in greeting. As soon as the other customer had paid, Santana brought over their usual drinks. "I'll put it on your tab?" she shouted to confirm, and Kurt nodded and thanked her.

Handing Rachel her drink, Kurt pulled them out of the crowd around the bar. They both paused at the edge of the dance floor to scope for an empty table.

"There!" Rachel shouted, pointing across the room. They started pushing their way toward the empty table, but two men, one with shaggy blond hair and one with barely tamed black curls, made it there first. Kurt stopped abruptly and Rachel bumped into his back.

"Darn," Rachel muttered as she peered around his shoulder and saw what had happened. "But I think I see some chairs over there."

She started moving in that direction, but Kurt wasn't paying attention. Even though he was all the way across the dark bar and all Kurt could see was his profile, something about the dark-haired man had Kurt temporarily frozen in place. If it hadn't been for Rachel's repeated yanks on his arm, Kurt probably would have stayed there staring for hours. In fact, Kurt could even ignore Rachel's yanks, but her shout of, "Come on!" snapped him out of his reverie.

He followed her to the chairs near the stage, barely suppressing the temptation to walk backwards just so he could try to get a better look at the dark-haired man. He couldn't figure out why he was so fascinated – maybe he was just lonely; maybe the guy reminded him of someone; maybe it was just the alcohol he and Rachel had already consumed before coming out tonight… but it didn't matter, because there was no way he was going to do anything about it. He was here for one thing and one thing only: karaoke.

When they reached the table that Rachel had spotted, she grabbed a chair and flung her purse onto the other to reserve it, while Kurt dropped his drink on the table and headed straight for the DJ. Years ago, when Rachel had first discovered Warblers, she and Kurt had spent two weeks carefully selecting a signature song for each of them before they came back. Once they had chosen, they had made an unspoken rule that unless otherwise stated, those would be their first songs of the night. Since Rachel hadn't said anything, Kurt knew she would do "Don't Rain On My Parade," while he would stick with his usual opening number, "Blackbird."

Mercedes, the DJ, had her back to him as she queued up some music and signed up a couple for karaoke. Kurt waited until she was done before speaking. "Let me guess: 'A Whole New World'?" he asked, tilting his head in the direction of the couple who had just left.

"Hey, baby!" Mercedes said enthusiastically, reaching out to give him a hug in greeting over the top of her table. "And you got it. They're the third couple to request that this evening – I had to break the bad news to them that I don't allow repeats. Unfortunately, that meant they chose 'Endless Love' instead."

Kurt shuddered. "I hate that karaoke has effectively destroyed every good love duet out there. I have strongly unpleasant memories attached to every single one."

"Tell me about it. I can't even hear Aladdin's name anymore without cringing. Totally ruined my favorite Disney movie," Mercedes sympathized. "At least I have you and Rachel to guarantee me some moments of decent talent." Then she glanced over at the clock. "Though you guys had me worried – you're late."

Kurt glanced over at the clock. Karaoke started at 10, probably to give people sufficient time to consume some alcohol and work up their nerves, and it was already 9:50. Usually he and Rachel got here earlier to reserve their songs and perform earlier in the night. That way they could have some time to regroup before performing again later in the night, if they so chose.

"I know; it's my fault. I couldn't find my hippo brooch, and this outfit just wouldn't have been complete without it." Kurt gestured at his outfit as if to highlight its excellence. "Just please tell me I'm not too late and I didn't ruin anything, because Rachel already spent the entire subway ride here detailing the numerous ways she would exact her revenge if I messed everything up."

Mercedes smiled warmly. "Don't worry, I've got you. I signed you guys up when I got here, assuming you'd show eventually. All is well."

Kurt exhaled a huge sigh of relief. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" He clapped his hands together and bounced in excitement. "You just saved my life. Seriously. Even with my rigorous skin-care regimen, these hands could not handle the volume of dishwashing Rachel was threatening."

Mercedes grabbed one of Kurt's raised hands and squeezed it in hers. "Anything for my favorite regulars." Then she grinned. "So what's your guess for tonight's Journey bet?"

Since they were such frequent customers of the bar, Kurt and Rachel had somehow been inducted into the staff's karaoke pool on how many people would want to sing "Don't Stop Believin'" before the night was over. They had a running score going, and at the end of the year, they got together at the bar while it was closed, and the winner got to pick songs for everyone else to perform. So far, nobody had heard Santana sing – she was shockingly accurate and impossible to beat. She insisted it was just an extension of her abilities as a bartender to "read people and know how many of them are boring enough to request perhaps the most obvious karaoke song in the world."

"Well, if you've already had 3 'Whole New World' requests and karaoke hasn't even started, I'm going to go high." He paused to consider. "Do you think 15 is too high?"

Mercedes laughed. "I'm not going to help you!"

Kurt gave her his best pleading look. "Come on. One of us has to beat Santana this year. You know she'll find a bunch of really hideous songs and make us sing them. We might have a shot if we band together."

Mercedes shook her head with a smile. "Nope. Sorry, babe. You're on your own."

Kurt reached out and grabbed her hands in desperation. "Last year I had to sing the Love Boat theme song! In a ridiculous sailor costume! The Love Boat, Mercedes!"

Before Mercedes could reply, another group approached the table to sign up for karaoke. "Rachel's third, you're fifth," Mercedes said quickly before blowing him a kiss and turning to the new group.

With a quick wave, he returned to the table to let Rachel know they were all set.


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine watched the chestnut-haired man interacting with the DJ across the room. Even from this distance, he was quite possibly the most beautiful man… no, not even man, because that still didn't do him justice… he was quite possibly the most beautiful _person_ Blaine had ever seen in real life. With his delicate bone structure, perfectly coiffed silky-appearing locks, and an outfit that highlighted his tall lithe form to perfection, Blaine almost wondered if he was hallucinating. He was like a man out of a fantasy.

"Yo, dude, are you even listening?" Across the table, his best friend Sam was frowning at him, which meant he'd probably been talking for a while and Blaine hadn't heard a word, too busy staring at the impossibly perfect man across the bar.

Blaine blinked a few times and shook his head to try to clear it. "Sorry," he offered, with an apologetic smile. "What were you saying?" Despite his resolution to focus on Sam, he couldn't stop his eyes from drifting slightly to the left to continue watching the interaction at the DJ booth.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I was just venting anyway, so it doesn't really matter." He picked up his beer from the table and lifted it to his mouth.

"Hey, who's that guy talking to your girlfriend?" Blaine asked, nodding his head in the direction of the DJ booth.

Sam turned and looked over his shoulder, then shrugged. "Dunno."

"He seems to know her pretty well," Blaine observed as he watched Mercedes quickly grab the man's hand.

"Mercedes knows everyone pretty well, so it's hard to keep track of them. We've been together what, like 8 years now, and I still don't think I've met all the people she considers her best friends," Sam replied. Then he narrowed his eyes at Blaine. "Why? Are you interested? Because if you are…"

Blaine shook his head. "No!" he protested, maybe a bit too quickly, because Sam just looked skeptical.

"Look, buddy, it's been over a year since you finally realized Sebastian was an evil, lying, cheating…"

"Let's not talk about Sebastian," Blaine interrupted quickly.

"I'm just saying, it's about time you started looking at other men…"

"I'm not interested!" Blaine insisted, a bit more vehemently. "I was just… worried… for you…" he covered quickly.

Sam scoffed. "Blaine, just because Sebastian was an evil, lying, cheating…"

"Sam!"

"…doesn't mean my girlfriend is. Mercedes and I are solid. I trust her completely." Sam twisted to look back over at the DJ booth, just as Mercedes blew a kiss at the stranger. "Plus, that guy is obviously gay."

Blaine gave him a disbelieving look. "How would you know? You have the worst gaydar. Remember that time we went to a gay bar and you insisted that the guy giving you his phone number was straight and just looking for new friends?"

"First of all, you need to stop using that story as proof, because that was like a week after I moved to New York, and I'm still not convinced that guy wasn't just dragged there with a friend. And second of all, even if my gaydar was defective, I'm not blind. That guy is so obviously gay. He's way too well-dressed to be straight."

"You're well-dressed sometimes, and you're straight," Blaine pointed out.

"Yeah, sometimes, when I'm at work and someone else picks out my clothes for me. Off the clock, you couldn't pay me enough money to look that put together." He looked pointedly down at his loose polo shirt and khaki cargo pants, before glancing back over at the DJ booth. Mercedes saw him and waved, a big smile on her face. Sam pushed back his chair and started to stand. "I'm going to go say hi to my girlfriend."

Blaine stretched across the table and grabbed Sam's arm. "Stop it. I know what you're doing. You're going to go ask her about that guy, and then come up with some really silly way to introduce us that ultimately leaves me looking ridiculous and feeling embarrassed, which will destroy the really, really slim chance I could have had with that guy."

Beaming, Sam sat back down. "Aha! So you _are _interested!" Then he looked affronted. "Wait, are you saying I'm not a good wingman?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying," Blaine agreed without any hesitation.

"Hey! I am a totally great wingman!" Sam defended. "Remember that time I introduced you to that really hot guitarist in that band we went to see? He gave you a phone number!"

"Yeah, to the local precinct, which he got off a crime tipline poster hanging behind us."

"It was still a phone number you wouldn't have gotten if I hadn't introduced you," Sam pointed out.

Blaine rolled his eyes, then looked back over at the beautiful man who was now deep in conversation with a perky brunette girl at a table across the bar. "I'm serious, Sam. I don't want you interfering. Like you said, it's about time I started at least looking at people again. I looked. That's enough for now."

Sam settled back in his chair and sighed. "Fine, man. You're off the hook for tonight. But you really have to get back out there."

Blaine picked up his beer. "I know. I will. Soon."

Sam seemed satisfied with that, giving a slight nod.

Up on the stage, Mercedes announced the first karaoke performer. They both sat back in silence for a moment while a group of college-aged kids broke into "Don't Stop Believin'".

Sam glanced back at Blaine as they neared the end of their song. "What do you say? You gonna sing tonight?"

Blaine shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Come on, it's a karaoke bar!" Sam cajoled.

"Which I only came to because you told me you missed your girlfriend and wanted to see her," Blaine reminded him. "And I still don't understand how you can miss someone you live with. Don't you see her every day?"

Sam looked over at his girlfriend, who was welcoming the second act to the stage, and smiled softly. "Sometimes that's not enough. Between our schedules the last few weeks, with her recording sessions for her album and her night shifts here and my unpredictable shooting schedule, we've rarely both been in the apartment and awake at the same time." Even as the second performer, a guy who immediately launched into a slightly off-beat version of "Baby Got Back," took over the stage, Sam's eyes didn't stray from his girlfriend. Feeling a little voyeuristic as he observed the tenderness in Sam's gaze, Blaine picked up his beer and turned to face the stage a little more fully.

He couldn't help it if that also put a certain chestnut-haired specimen of human perfection more in his line of sight. The odds of him seeing the man ever again were slim to none in a city the size of New York, so he might as well get the most out of tonight as he could. He may never have someone to look at the way Sam looked at Mercedes, but he could at least have this one night to observe the most beautiful person on the planet and let that fuel his romantic daydreams.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt gave Rachel a commiserative smile when she made an exaggerated grimace and tilted her head in the direction of her preceding performer, who was currently destroying the song "Baby Got Back." She was up on the stage awaiting her turn, and given how terrible the current performance had become, Kurt had no doubt that she would look like the superstar she was in comparison. Poor guy. He probably wouldn't be signing up for karaoke again any time soon. Kurt just hoped he was as drunk as he seemed, so he wouldn't remember this humiliation tomorrow.

The performance finally ended, and Mercedes took the stage again. "Well, that was certainly… special," she said, clearly trying not to say too much. "And next up, we have one of our favorite karaoke performers, Miss Rachel Berry, who is going to regale us with 'Don't Rain On My Parade.' You're in for a treat, Warblers." As Rachel moved to the center of the stage, Mercedes tapped a few keys on her computer to start the track.

Despite the relative unpopularity of her song choice, Rachel's performance managed to draw most of the crowd's attention, like usual. Even in a dingy karaoke bar, Rachel's inner diva shone. It still shocked Kurt that 4 years post-NYADA, she still hadn't been truly discovered. Her star quality was obvious. Sadly, it was unlikely a Broadway producer was hanging out here in Warblers to see her in all her glory.

Kurt watched with pride as she hit every note perfectly, highlighting her performance with just the right amount of dramatic flair and passion to keep the audience completely enraptured. As she hit her last big note, the bar erupted in cheers. Kurt pitied the performer who would follow her, especially since they'd be performing right before Kurt, and call him cocky, but he just knew he was going to kill it tonight.

Rachel practically bounced back to the table, stopping a few times to beam and curtsy when someone gave her a compliment. "How fantastic was I?" she gushed as she plopped back into her chair.

"Amazing," Kurt said honestly.

Rachel brought her hands up under her chin and gave a few quick claps in excitement. "I know!" Then she sighed, letting her fingers fold together and resting her chin on her hands. "If only casting directors could see me now."

Kurt reached out and rested a hand on her arm. "Hey. It'll happen. One day a casting director who isn't a complete and total idiot will notice that you were born for Broadway."

"It's been four years since we graduated, Kurt, and the closest I've ever come is still those callbacks for 'Funny Girl' that never worked out."

"That's because the show ended up getting cancelled, not because you weren't fantastic," Kurt reassured her. "You are a star, Rachel Berry, and one day the rest of the world will know it, too."

Rachel gave him a tentative smile of gratitude. Then she glanced over at the stage, where a couple was doing a passable duet to "A Whole New World." If they hadn't been sandwiched between Rachel and Kurt, they might have even seemed good, but in comparison, they were dull and off-key.

"Poor people," Rachel murmured, echoing Kurt's thoughts. "They never had a chance, not between us."

"Speaking of which, I should probably go up there," Kurt said as he stood.

"Break a leg!" Rachel encouraged as he walked past her to the stage.

Kurt smiled at her in acknowledgement and confidently made his way up the stage. He was going to be amazing tonight. He could feel it.


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine was still so awestruck from the perky brunette's mind-blowing performance that the couple after her was mostly a blur. In fact, he didn't really notice much of anything until the chestnut-haired man stood and made his way to the stage. Blaine appreciated the opportunity to watch the perfect man's lean form in motion, especially the way his sinfully tight pants cupped his ass as he made his way up the stairs to the stage.

While several of the previous performers had waited for their turn in the corner nervously and approached the stage cautiously, Mr. Perfect walked like he owned it. There wasn't even the slightest hesitation or show of nerves in his motion. He stood off to the side as the couple finished their performance, casually joking with Mercedes as if they were just hanging out at a party and he wasn't about to perform to a packed bar.

Blaine envied his confidence – it had been years since he had performed music outside of his own room. In high school, he'd been as confident as Mr. Perfect as the lead soloist in his school's glee club, but it had been a small private school in rural Ohio. The phrase "big fish in a small pond" had never been more apt. When he'd come to New York for college, he'd had big dreams of taking the city by storm… until he'd realized how talented literally all of his classmates at NYU had been. So used to being the shining star showered with praise, he'd had a really hard time accepting criticism and becoming one of the crowd rather than the obvious stand-out. After overhearing some classmates making fun of his "showy boy-band style", his self-doubt had reached a peak, and he'd frozen at a vocal performance final. Instead of facing his fears, Blaine had quickly convinced himself that music was more of a personal hobby rather than his dream and that his real dream was becoming a doctor, much to his parents' delight. He'd graduated a few years ago and had been working as a lab tech for a cancer biologist, trying to motivate himself to start the application process for medical school.

The stage fright and self-doubt may have destroyed Blaine's faith in his music dreams, but it hadn't destroyed his love of music. Now, though, the closest he came to performing was his Youtube channel, where he carefully angled the camera to focus only on his hands as they strummed his guitar. He mostly did covers, but every once in a while, he threw in an original song. He had a decent following – not enough to qualify as famous, but pretty impressive (he thought) for a guy who just sang along with his guitar a few times a week.

The couple up on stage was finishing up, and Blaine distractedly clapped along with the rest of the bar. His focus was entirely on Mr. Perfect, who seemed to have gone into his own pre-performance space. His eyes were closed, his head slightly bowed, and Blaine was pretty sure if he were standing closer, he'd hear a pattern of deep, even breathing. As Mercedes took the stage, the chestnut-haired man slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes, as if he was carefully transitioning back to the world from wherever he had just been.

"Alright, let's have another round of applause for tonight's Aladdin and Jasmine!" Mercedes yelled into the microphone. The crowd gave a slight cheer as the couple made their way down the stage.

Mercedes waited until they had reached the dance floor "And now, we have another great performance from another Warblers regular, the amazingly talented Kurt Hummel!"

Blaine subconsciously sat up straighter in his chair in eager anticipation as Mr. Perfect… _Kurt_, and somehow that just seemed to be the perfect name for the chestnut-haired god… made his way to the center of the stage. An avid Beatles fan, Blaine immediately recognized the opening to "Blackbird." It was an interesting song choice for karaoke – most people would have gone with something more obvious, like "All You Need Is Love." Blaine was already impressed, and Kurt hadn't even started singing.

And then he did, and Blaine's brain ceased functioning. Kurt's voice was like nothing Blaine had ever heard before. Blaine was sure if he died and went to heaven, the choirs of angels would have nothing on Kurt's voice. Blaine was transfixed by the passion and emotion underlying every note, as if Kurt's soul was leaking out through the words he was singing. In his chest, Blaine's heart was doing cartwheels. It felt like Blaine's entire world was tilting on its axis, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

As the rest of the bar erupted in cheers when Kurt finished singing, Blaine could only stare in awe. He couldn't process what had just happened. All he knew was that things were never going to be the same for him, ever again.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt knew he had nailed it before he even finished the last note. The roaring applause of the bar patrons was a nice bonus, but he didn't need it. With a triumphant smile, Kurt gave a quick curtsy and blew a kiss to the supportive crowd. He would have skipped back to his table, but too many people stopped him on his way back to congratulate him. Not that Kurt really minded. There were also a few offers of drinks, mostly from older men, but Kurt had a strict policy against accepting drinks from people who creeped him out, and the leering gazes definitely creeped him out. He politely declined.

Back at the table, Rachel was practically vibrating with excitement. "Kurt, that was _amazing_," she gushed. "Absolutely one of your best performances. I know I've seen you do that song hundreds of times, but tonight, it was just… wow. Forget me being a star. _You're _the star."

Kurt smiled at her. "How about we're both stars?"

"Deal," she agreed, clinking her glass against his.

They were both still celebrating when Santana appeared at the table. Without even asking, she grabbed a chair from a nearby table and pulled it up. "If anyone asks, you two are happily married and have like a dozen kids," she announced without preamble.

Kurt gave her a questioning look, while Rachel stuttered, "Married… to each other? Please. No way."

Santana took a swig of the beer she had carried over with her. "Well, it's either that or you can get hit on by every untalented freak in here with fantasies of breeding show-choir babies. I thought I was doing you a favor, but hey, my bad. I'll just hang your number up behind the bar, then."

Rachel perked up and glanced over at the bar. "People want to hit on me?" she asked excitedly.

"Oh my God, girl, you do not want them, trust me," Santana replied.

"How do you know? Maybe they're perfectly nice gentlemen who enjoy spontaneous flirty duets and recognize Barbra Streisand as the goddess that she is and would worship me in the way I deserve and would shower me with lavish gifts backstage after I wow the crowds on Broadway…"

Santana rolled her eyes. "You are so far gone, it would take a spaceship to reach you." Then she glanced over at Kurt. "What about you, Hummel? Harboring romantic fantasies about the guys trying to send you drinks? Want me to start encouraging them?"

Kurt shuddered. "God, no."

Santana gave a slight nod of approval. "At least one of you is slightly sane."

"Hey!" Rachel protested. "I am perfectly sane."

"Keep telling yourself that." Santana glanced over at the bar as she answered. "Ugh. This kid is so useless. Can't trust him with the bar for 5 minutes. I gotta go." She stood and forced her way through the crowd back to the bar.

"Just because I choose to be an optimist…" Rachel began.

Kurt held up a hand. "Rachel, not my fight. Text it to her."

Rachel huffed. "You know what? Maybe I will." She pulled out her phone and began furiously typing.

Kurt turned away from her and focused again on the karaoke. A bunch of ridiculously drunk college boys were shouting their way through "Carry On My Wayward Son." Kurt cringed. Some nights, Warblers was full of great performers, but other nights, it was just a drunken free-for-all. Tonight seemed like it would be the latter. Kurt hoped he was wrong.

Rachel continued typing through several more performances, none of which were any better. Finally, Kurt snapped. "What are you writing, a novel?"

Rachel looked affronted. "I just want to make my position clear."

"In what, a ten-page formal essay?" Kurt quipped. "Do you know Santana at all? She's not going to read more than 5 words before she deletes it."

Rachel sniffed. "At least I'll know I tried."

Kurt sighed. "Can you finish your essay on the subway ride home?"

"You want to leave?" Rachel asked as she continued pecking at her phone. "But we just got here."

"We got here an hour ago, and everyone sucks tonight," Kurt whined.

Rachel glanced up at the stage, where a middle-aged woman was droning a very flat version of "I Will Always Love You." "You have a point. Alright, we can go. Just let me finish this sentence."

A few minutes later, they were waving at Santana and making their way back out to the street. After a short walk and a longer wait, they were finally on the train back toward their apartment. While Rachel continued her text rant, Kurt pulled his phone and a set of earbuds out of his pocket.

Rachel glanced over at him. "Let me guess. Nightbirdsong?" she asked, referring to the username of a Youtube singer Kurt had become obsessed with in the last few months.

"Of course," Kurt said unashamedly. "I need something to cleanse my brain of all that horrific karaoke."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Don't you think it's a little weird that you converted a bunch of random Youtube videos by some stranger to mp3s so you can listen to them obsessively at all hours of the day?"

Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. "No? It would be weird if I were obsessed with _him_, but appreciating someone's talent is not weird."

Rachel muttered something that sounded like, "Seems like a fine line to me."

Kurt jumped on the defensive. "Rachel, I don't even know what this man looks like. How could I be obsessed with him? Sure, he has a voice that's smoother than expensive silk sheets and masterful, strong hands that fly over his guitar with a surprising dexterity…" He stopped when he caught Rachel's pointed look. "Okay, maybe I'm a little obsessed. It's just been a long dry spell."

"Aw, honey," Rachel cooed sympathetically as she leaned her head on his shoulder, "even in my worst dry spell, I've never fantasized over a disembodied voice and a pair of hands."

Kurt pushed her off his shoulder. "You sounded so genuine at first."

Rachel wasn't the least bit chagrined. "Should I get you some posters of Thing from _The Addams Family _to help get you through_?_"

"Shut up," Kurt muttered as he turned up the volume on his phone.

Successfully distracted from her text, Rachel kept teasing him all the way to the apartment.


	6. Chapter 6

Blaine still felt slightly dazed when he saw Kurt and the girl he was with get up and start to leave. He had already accepted that the odds of him ever seeing Kurt again were almost nonexistent, but he was still sad to see him go so soon. Blaine had been hoping Kurt would stay longer, and maybe sing again. Blaine wanted to feel the same rush he had gotten from Kurt's first performance, to feel that depth of emotion, to experience that sensation of being really, truly alive for the first time in years. It was invigorating and addictive, and apparently over.

Blaine forced himself to continue facing Sam, but all he really wanted to do was swing around and watch Kurt leave. He wanted to memorize everything about Kurt, so that in his dark moments of loneliness, he could recall everything about the most perfect man that ever was. He was used to living in fantasies. After all, he'd dated Sebastian for 3 years, and even gotten engaged, all because he'd convinced himself Sebastian was the man of his dreams and not a weasely, cheating liar. He could easily survive years on memories and dreams of Kurt. He might need to survive years on that. Blaine was pretty sure after the disaster that was Sebastian, he wouldn't be trusting anyone anytime soon.

The next few hours passed in a bit of a blur. Blaine knew Sam continued talking, and Blaine was responding, but he really couldn't tell you what the conversation was about. A few more rounds of drinks were purchased. An almost endless array of performers sang karaoke numbers, ranging from people who clearly had some vocal training to people who had clearly had a few too many beers and never carried a tune in their life. Nobody was like Kurt, though. Nobody even came close.

Around 2 AM, Mercedes took the stage to announce the end of karaoke for the night and to thank everyone for participating. She reminded them that karaoke was available at Warblers every night at ten and invited them to come back and perform again. After she'd spent a few minutes behind her table queuing up some music to play for the remaining hour or so until last call, Mercedes made her way down the stairs and over to Blaine and Sam's table. She greeted her boyfriend enthusiastically, with a kiss that quickly made Blaine feel like he was intruding on a private moment and forced him to turn away.

"So, Blaine, what'd you think of your first night at Warblers?" Mercedes asked, causing Blaine to stop pretending to examine a flyer on the wall behind him.

"It was a lot of fun. You get some pretty good singers in here," Blaine remarked.

Mercedes laughed. "And some pretty bad ones, too."

"At least they have the courage to get up there and perform," Blaine said, a hint of wistfulness in his voice.

Sam and Mercedes exchanged a quick glance. Evidently, Sam had been chosen to talk, for he looked back at Blaine and began, "You know, buddy, if you wanted…"

Blaine held up a hand. "I know. We've been through this. Spare me the psychiatric analysis at 2 AM on a Friday night… well, Saturday morning, I guess. I'm working on it."

Mercedes pursed her lips like she wanted to say more, but instead changed the subject. "I can't believe Rachel and Kurt didn't stick around. I really wanted to introduce them to you guys."

"Oh, you know them?" Blaine tried to sound casual, but based on Sam's raised eyebrow, he wasn't really succeeding.

Luckily, Mercedes didn't seem to catch it. "Oh, yeah, they're some of our only regulars. They come almost every Friday night. They're awesome. I love them."

Blaine wanted to ask more, but Sam was already looking way too interested, so Blaine shrugged and pretended he wasn't really interested in the information.

Mercedes looked around the bar, which had emptied out a lot in the last few hours. "So I have to stay for another hour or so, and then I should be able to head out. At least now I can be a little more free and sit with you guys, if you want to stay. You two don't have to wait. I know it's late, so if you want to head out…"

Sam was already shaking his head. "I'm here for you, so I'm staying until you leave. Plus…" He leaned closer to whisper something in her ear.

Mercedes shot him a scandalized look and smacked him on the arm. "Inappropriate!" she scolded, but her eyes were filled with love. Sam laughed and slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer.

Suddenly feeling very much like a third wheel, Blaine took a long drink to finish up his beer. He pushed back his chair. "I hate to be a party pooper, but I think I'm going to head out."

Mercedes pushed slightly away from Sam. "Oh, no, no, you don't have to go!" She picked up Sam's hand and dropped it back on his lap. "Sam will behave himself. I can go back over to my booth and leave you two to your boys' night." She gave Sam a genuinely concerned look, and Blaine wondered how many conversations the two of them had had about Blaine. He had a sneaking suspicion they were worried about him and conspiring to get him back out there at any price.

Even though he was still pretty amped up from earlier, Blaine didn't want to hang out here and feel like he was blocking their alone time. He'd find some other way to work off his energy. He gave Mercedes a sweet smile. "I appreciate the offer, but I think it's time I head out. It's getting late."

Mercedes didn't look convinced. Blaine leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek. "I promise, I'm fine," he said quietly by her ear. She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick squeeze.

Once she had released him, Blaine straightened and slapped Sam's outstretched hand in a quick high-five, then leaned forward and gave him a quick half-hug. "Thanks for bringing me out tonight."

"We should do this more often," Sam replied.

Blaine nodded. "Absolutely."

Sam's demeanor shifted to what Blaine liked to call "big brother mode," his gaze going protective. "You okay to get home?" he asked.

Blaine laughed. "Sam, I've only had 3 beers in 4 hours, I'm 26 years old, and I've lived in the city for 8 years. I think I can handle getting back to my apartment all by myself."

Sam shrugged. "You'll always be that naïve, sweet 18-year-old boy who felt bad hailing a taxi because it might inconvenience the cab driver to pull over and drive you to your destination."

Blaine made a disgusted face. "Talk about stories that need to stop being repeated. Don't worry. I've managed to get past that."

"If you say so," Sam replied skeptically. "I distinctly remember a day last week when you were running late for a meeting but refused to hail the cab coming up the street…"

"Because there was a very harried-looking woman with a suitcase down the block who clearly needed the cab more than I did! And the cabbie would have gotten an airport fare, which is way better than the short little ride I was going to give him," Blaine shot back defensively.

Sam gave him a look to indicate that Blaine was proving his point, but all he said was, "Just text me when you get home, okay? I still worry, even if you're all grown up now."

"Yes, Dad," Blaine teased. "I'll talk to you two soon."

"Thanks for coming," Mercedes replied, while Sam said, "Seriously, don't forget to text me or I'll send out search parties."

Blaine smiled and waved as he headed for the door.

Outside the bar, he got lucky. An empty cab was just turning onto the block, so Blaine reached out his arm. The car pulled up and Blaine climbed in. As they drove through the city streets to Blaine's apartment, Blaine figured out how he was going to burn out some energy. He was feeling inspired. He was going to record a song for his Youtube channel, and he knew exactly what song he wanted to sing.


	7. Chapter 7

Kurt woke up the next morning and looked over at the clock. 10:42. He sighed in contentment. Sleeping in was the best part of Saturday mornings. Kurt rolled to his side and snuggled into the covers. He loved knowing he could stay here all day if he wanted, warm and cozy under his blankets. Sure, there were things he could do: his laundry pile was getting pretty large, the fridge was emptier than it should be, and he had been meaning to rearrange his scarf collection for weeks. But none of those things _had_ to be done. That was the beauty of Saturdays.

On the nightstand next to the bed, Kurt's phone vibrated. "I underestimated the boringness of last night's crowd. Lucky guess with 15," Santana wrote.

It took Kurt a second to figure it out, but when he did, he sat up and began bouncing up and down in excitement. "I won the Journey bet last night?!" he texted back. Then he added, "And OMG 15 people? Really? Doesn't anyone have taste anymore?"

Santana's reply was immediate. "You're not that good, Hummel. It was 13. You were just the closest."

Kurt ignored her. "I won! I can't believe it! You better watch out – there's about to be a new champion in town. I can't wait to hear you perform."

"Getting a little ahead of yourself there, champ. You have one point. One. For the entire year. And it's already late April. You're going to have to get lucky more than once in order for that to happen. And we both know how often you get lucky," she texted back.

"Leave my sex life out of this!" Kurt replied. "You're just afraid, because you know your reign of terror is coming to an end."

"You wish," Santana's answering text read.

Kurt sent her an emoticon with its tongue sticking out. While he waited to see if she would reply, he decided to check his email. There were a few emails from online retailers he frequented, offering sale codes and promises of free shipping. He left those unread so he'd remember to check them out later. Then he saw an email from Youtube about a new video on one of the channels he subscribed to. Eagerly, he opened the email and clicked the link to Nightbirdsong's latest video.

Of course, the Wi-Fi chose that moment to be slow. As he groaned in frustration and waited for the video to buffer, he glanced at the description. "Something a little different, for a beautiful man with an incredible voice who helped me find my inspiration tonight," he read.

Kurt squealed in excitement. His Youtube crush was gay! He had to be. Straight guys were never secure enough in their masculinity or sexuality to call other men beautiful, in Kurt's experience. This was amazing! Now he and Nightbirdsong could sing flirty duets and fall in love and have beautiful musically talented babies…

Caught up in his slightly over-the-top fantasies, Kurt almost missed the start of the video. It was indeed different – instead of the usual guitar, a keyboard sat in the frame. As usual, Nightbirdsong's face wasn't visible, but his hands moved just as confidently over the keyboard as they usually did over the guitar. Within a few chords, Kurt already recognized the song and was excited to see Nightbirdsong's interpretation.

"You think I'm pretty without any make-up on," Nightbirdsong began. His voice was smooth, confident, and steady as he made his way through "Teenage Dream." Though Kurt found the original version too pop-like and cheesy, Nightbirdsong's voice, along with the keyboard, made it sound more like a love song than a catchy pop song. Kurt was addicted. When the video ended, Kurt replayed it three times, while clutching a hand to his chest as if trying to keep his heart from overflowing with feelings and spilling all over the bed.

After the third time, Kurt hit the replay button again, but this time he finally got out of bed. He exited his bedroom and twirled down the hall. In the kitchen, Rachel glanced up from the table, where she was reading the paper and eating a bowl of fruit after her morning jog, and frowned in confusion. "Someone's awfully cheerful considering they haven't yet had their morning coffee."

Wordlessly, Kurt restarted the video and placed his phone on the table in front of her. Rachel watched for a few seconds. "Ah. I should have guessed. Nightbirdsong. What else would put a smile on your face first thing on a Saturday?" She ate a few pieces of fruit while the video finished. "It is a pretty beautiful version of that song, though, I'll give you that. I never would have thought 'Teenage Dream' could sound like that."

Kurt gathered the cup of coffee he had made and sank into the chair next to Rachel. "I haven't even shown you the best part yet." He hit the replay button so the song would restart, then pointed to the video description.

Rachel read it out loud, then looked up at Kurt with a puzzled expression. "Okay, why is that the best part?"

"Rachel… he's _gay_," Kurt sighed dreamily.

Rachel groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Oh, no. I'm going to be hearing even more about him, aren't I?"

Kurt just gave her a bright smile and reached for his phone, prepared to restart the video as soon as the song ended.


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine told himself that Warblers and Kurt had been a one-time event, but two weeks later, Kurt and his voice were still stuck in Blaine's head. So when Sam texted and asked if he wanted to hang out again and maybe stop by to see Mercedes, Blaine said yes.

Later that night at the bar, Blaine tried to act normally. He resisted the temptation to scan the bar every two minutes to see if Kurt had shown up yet. He avoided staring at Mercedes to see if Kurt approached her to sign up. He ignored Sam's teasing comments about the last time they had been at the bar. He pretended not to notice when karaoke started and there was no sign of Kurt. He pretended not to care when karaoke ended and Kurt hadn't come. He pretended not to be listening when Mercedes came over at the end of the night and started telling Sam about the horrible stomach bug that Kurt had caught at work. He even pretended to himself not to be disappointed that Kurt hadn't been there.

The next week, Sam invited him again. This time, Blaine spotted Kurt immediately, his perfectly groomed chestnut hair seated right by the stage with the same brunette girl from the first time. This time, Kurt was the second person to perform, again choosing "Blackbird." It was everything Blaine remembered; the magic hadn't been a one-time thing, like Blaine had tried to tell himself the past 3 weeks. It was ridiculous to be this obsessed over a guy he'd only seen twice at a karaoke bar, but there was just something about Kurt that resonated deep within Blaine's soul.

Blaine was still contentedly enjoying the post-Kurt haze when Kurt and his friend took the stage again later and performed a duet to "For Good" from Wicked. It was emotional and almost intimate; though Kurt and his friend were both excellent performers, it was easy to tell there was a deep personal bond on which the performance was based. Blaine felt like he had won the lottery – two Kurt performances in one night. He also felt greedy, because he still wanted more. When it started getting pretty late and Kurt and his friend hadn't left yet, Blaine started to allow himself to hope that maybe Kurt would stay long enough that Mercedes would introduce them. It was looking really promising… until 1:30, when a clumsy and drunk college kid behind Blaine stumbled and dumped 3 pints of beer down Blaine's back. Soaked and reeking of cheap beer, Blaine was too uncomfortable in his wet clothing to stay. Plus, that wasn't really the first impression Blaine wanted to make.

Sam was out of town for the next two weeks for a modeling job, and Blaine felt that going to the bar alone would be bordering on stalking. Instead, he stayed home and worked on some new arrangements and original songs for his Youtube channel, which he found himself updating more and more frequently since the first time he'd seen Kurt perform.

When Sam returned from his shoot, Blaine expected to be invited out to the bar again. He waited patiently for one week, then two, but Sam apparently had forgotten about Warblers or had lost interest in going. Blaine knew he was being silly, since he could easily ask Sam to go, but he didn't want to endure the teasing that was bound to result. Even though it had been over a month, Blaine knew Sam. There was no way Sam had forgotten Blaine's interest, no matter how temporary he had tried to make it seem.

But when Thursday of the third week since Sam had returned came and there was still no invitation from Sam, Blaine was pretty restless. He decided it was time to take matters into his own hands, so he picked up his phone and sent a text.

_[Author note: I'm sorry I'm dragging this out, but I promise they're going to meet, and it's going to be soon. Bear with me a little longer!]_


	9. Chapter 9

Other than a short bout with a stomach bug in early May, Kurt's life remained relatively uneventful. Nothing much had changed in his professional life. He went to a few auditions, for which he was never contacted again, so he was still working for Vogue's online division. He knew there were worse fates; after all, his boss was fantastic and loved him. She was extremely supportive of his dream and was always giving him time off for auditions, but she also thought he was brilliant and gave him a lot of opportunities at Vogue, considering he had no formal fashion training. It just wasn't the career he wanted. He missed the stage. His only outlet was Friday nights at Warblers with Rachel.

His personal life hadn't really changed either. Since he'd broken up with Adam 3 years ago, Kurt hadn't really had any significant relationships. There'd been dates, of course. There'd even been a guy named Chandler who he'd met at a music store and dated for several months, but Kurt had eventually grown tired of Chandler's fanboy-like worship. Of course he wanted someone who thought he was amazing, but he also wanted someone who saw him as a real person. He wanted a partner, someone who had their own life and their own dreams and ambitions, someone who would tell him when he was being amazing but also when he was being obnoxious, someone who walked alongside him and not behind him (metaphorically speaking). Chandler had not been that. Kurt had broken up with Chandler after Kurt had spent a week intentionally being the most unreasonable diva, and Chandler had just showered him with praise and done whatever he asked without complaint. That wasn't a healthy relationship.

Overall, though, even though he wasn't where he wanted to be, Kurt was content with his life. He was optimistic about his prospects, both professionally and personally. His healthy dose of confidence helped – he knew he was fabulous, and eventually he'd find casting agents and a partner who agreed. Very little could shake that confidence.

The first Friday in June, though, one of the rare confidence-shaking events happened. As he was pulling out ingredients for dinner, he received a text from Adam. That in and of itself wasn't unusual; though they'd broken up, they'd remained friends and occasionally checked in with each other or grabbed a coffee to catch up. It was the contents of the text that sent Kurt reeling.

"I'M ENGAGED!" it read.

In disbelief, Kurt had tried to rationalize the text as a joke. After all, the whole reason he and Adam had broken up after 4 years together was because Adam had said he never really wanted to get married, and Kurt definitely wanted to get married and have kids and live the fairy tale. Kurt had been willing to wait for Adam to be ready, but Adam had been pretty clear that he didn't expect to ever be ready. It had hurt, but Kurt had appreciated Adam's honesty. They'd agreed that their goals were too different and that it was better to break things off at that point instead of waiting for the inevitable fights and resentment that was bound to come.

Kurt knew that Adam had been dating a guy for almost a year now, but Kurt hadn't realized that Adam's fundamental philosophy on marriage had changed. Kurt logged on to Facebook to try to prove that Adam's text was a joke, but right there at the top of his news feed was a post proclaiming Adam's engagement, with a few pictures of the happy, smiling couple. Just in case there was any doubt in Kurt's mind, Adam had changed his profile picture to one of him and his partner, in which his partner was holding up his hand and pointing to a ring with an expression of surprise and excitement while Adam pressed a kiss to his cheek. So not only had Adam suddenly become pro-marriage, but _he _had been the one to propose. It wasn't even like his partner had asked and Adam had replied with a dispassionate "sure." Adam had orchestrated the proposal. Adam had been so excited about the prospect of marriage that he had gone out and purchased a ring, planned a proposal, and popped the question.

Which meant that it wasn't true that Adam had never really wanted to get married. He just had never really wanted to get married to Kurt. After all, it had taken him less than a year to start thinking about marriage with his new boyfriend. This completely changed everything Kurt had told himself to help find closure after he and Adam had broken up. He'd blamed Adam and his stance on marriage for the split, and he had managed to heal his bruised heart by repeatedly affirming that he had done nothing wrong, because it was Adam's problem. But the problem hadn't been Adam. The problem had been Kurt. Kurt hadn't been enough.

After sending a polite congratulatory text back, Kurt searched the cabinets until he found a bottle of wine, popped out the cork, and poured himself a large glass.

When Rachel got home 45 minutes later, Kurt was past tipsy and on the way to drunk, the bottle of wine almost empty. The dinner ingredients were still scattered on the kitchen counter where Kurt had abandoned them. Kurt himself was splayed across the couch, humming the chorus to "All By Myself" between snarky, cynical comments aimed at the brides on "Say Yes to the Dress."

"Kurt?" Rachel asked gently.

"Rachel! Come join me! I'm laughing at all these silly girls who think love is real. It's not. Everything's a lie," Kurt replied almost cheerfully.

Rachel perched on the sofa by Kurt's legs and subtly reached for the bottle of wine to move it out of reach. "Sweetie, what happened?"

Kurt sat up. "Four years, Rachel. What was I, just a convenient body? An amusing distraction? Why waste four years on me if he knew I wasn't the one?" He was ranting now, angry and hurt.

"Is this about Adam?" Rachel guessed, trying to put the pieces together.

"Duh," Kurt said, flopping back down. He reached down for the bottle of wine and frowned when it wasn't there.

Rachel rested a hand on Kurt's knee. "What happened?" she repeated.

"Russell," Kurt spat angrily. "What kind of name is Russell, anyway?"

Rachel ran her thumb across the bottom of Kurt's thigh in a soothing motion. "I'm still a little confused, sweetie. Who's Russell, and what does he have to do with Adam?"

"Well, he doesn't _have _to do anything, but apparently he wants to do everything, and Adam wants to do everything with him too, forever, which he didn't want to do with me." Kurt's voice trailed into a whine. "Why didn't he want to do it with me, Rachel? What's wrong with me?!"

"Absolutely nothing," Rachel replied automatically. When Kurt didn't offer any further explanation, she prodded gently, "I'm still a little confused – who exactly is Russell?"

Kurt exhaled in exasperation. He grabbed his phone from the coffee table and unlocked the screen. "Someone who's obviously better than me in every way," Kurt replied, handing her the phone so she could look at the open Facebook profile.

Rachel furrowed her brow as she scanned the profile, trying to figure out what it was that she was supposed to be seeing. His cover photo was a beautiful shadowy silhouette shot of two men on a beach at sunrise, one down on one knee in a classic proposal stance, but it was impossible to make out any features. His profile picture was just a shot of his hand with a ring on it, but there was nothing obvious that made him relevant to the conversation. It was only when she saw his relationship status, "Engaged to Adam Crawford," that she put it all together. "Oh, sweetie…" she started.

"Adam loves marriage, Rachel! He was just lying to me! He's all about marriage! Look at that cover photo – he even planned a romantic sunrise proposal on the beach! That should have been _my_ proposal, but Adam didn't want me!" Kurt reached again for his bottle of wine and again came up empty-handed. He leaned up a little and saw it where Rachel had stashed it between her feet. "Give me back my wine, Rachel."

She ignored him and instead focused on Adam. "Kurt, maybe Adam just had a change of heart. Maybe he really didn't think he would want to get married, but now that he's older…"

"He's found someone better," Kurt finished glumly. Then he glared at her. "Give me back my wine."

Rachel shook her head. "Not better. There is nobody better than you, Kurt."

In a lightning-quick move, Kurt lunged forward and grabbed the bottle of wine from between Rachel's feet. He let out a triumphant "Ha!" when Rachel glanced at him in surprise. "I'm not that drunk, Rachel. Just enough to be sappy."

Rachel tried to grab the bottle of wine away, but Kurt held it up and out of reach. "Give it up, Rachel. It's mine. You can't have it."

Rachel huffed in defeat before returning to her previous efforts at cheering Kurt up. "Kurt, who cares about Russell? You can do better than Adam anyway."

Kurt laughed bitterly. "Because I've had so many promising relationships since then?"

"Just because you haven't found someone better _yet_ doesn't mean you never will!" Rachel insisted.

"No, I won't. I'm unlovable," Kurt protested dramatically.

"Well, I happen to love you, Kurt Hummel, so that can't possibly be true. Now come on. Let's get some dinner in you before you drink any more alcohol." She stood up and grabbed Kurt's hand, and he let her drag him off the couch and into the kitchen.


	10. Chapter 10

Blaine led the way into Warblers late that night. He bought two beers at the bar and then snagged a table along the wall. Wes dropped into the seat across from him and glanced around the bar, assessing. Finally he grabbed his beer and focused back on Blaine. "Not a place I would have pictured you taking me, but I like it. No frills. Just functional. None of that pretentious New York bar atmosphere," he pronounced.

"Just wait until the karaoke starts. There are some really great singers who come in here," Blaine assured him.

"Like you?" Wes asked hopefully, raising an eyebrow.

Blaine shook his head and started picking at the label on his bottle, a nervous habit he had whenever the conversation broached uncomfortable territory. "You know I don't do that anymore."

Wes looked pensive for a moment before speaking. Blaine had to lean in a little to hear him. "I know that. I also know you miss it."

Blaine stopped peeling the label and glanced up suddenly. "How do you know that?"

"Blaine, I saw you when you came to Dalton. You were this nervous, shy, reserved freshman who seemed to prefer being alone and isolated yourself from everyone. When you showed up to glee club try-outs, we all thought you had gotten lost. You got up to sing your solo and we were all still waiting for the punchline to the joke. And then the music started playing and suddenly you became this whole other person, like your entire body came alive and your personality burst out of its cage and you were finally free. For the first year, most of us called you Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, because we couldn't understand how you could be one person on stage and a completely different person off-stage. It wasn't until you came to trust us and told us about your history with bullying that we all realized that the person you were on stage was the real you, and the stage was the only place you had been comfortable enough to reveal yourself to us. The stage is your safe place, Blaine. It's your home. How could you not miss that?"

Blaine stared, open-mouthed, at Wes. Wes just shrugged as if he had commented on something benign and boring, like the weather.

They sat in silence for a few moments while Blaine processed. Wes didn't seem to mind, happy to just sip his beer and glance around the bar. Blaine knew they could have stayed like that all night and Wes wouldn't have pushed. That was the great thing about Wes; he knew when to speak and when to give people space.

Finally, Blaine cleared his throat, and Wes immediately refocused his attention on Blaine. "How… do I get it back?" Blaine asked.

Wes gave him an amused glance. "Why are you asking me?"

"Hey, you didn't seem to have any problem answering my earlier question."

Wes seemed to consider whether to answer for a minute. "Maybe you just… do it," he suggested.

"Just do it?" Blaine repeated skeptically. "Just get up on a stage and sing? That seems overly simplistic."

"It's how you've worked through all your other fears and emotions before. Why not try it?"

"Maybe that's how I used to work through things, but I haven't in 8 years. Why would it work now?"

Wes shook his head. "No, that's not true. That's exactly how you still work through things. Isn't that why you have your Youtube channel?"

"That's just for fooling around. I only post songs when… um…" Blaine trailed off, looking for the right words to explain the Youtube channel.

"When you need an outlet?" Wes offered.

Blaine nodded, and Wes gave him a pointed look. "Isn't that exactly the same thing?"

"I guess the principle is the same, but the Youtube channel is anonymous. Nobody can see me or judge me. Nobody even knows who I am."

"I do," Wes pointed out.

"That's different. You knew me before…" Blaine gestured vaguely.

Wes wasn't put off that easily. "Sam does, and you two didn't meet until sophomore year of college."

"That's Sam; he doesn't really count either."

"Doesn't Sam's girlfriend know too? And didn't you say that your brother showed it to a few of his friends?"

"Yeah…" Blaine conceded, still not entirely convinced.

"Look, my point is, you're not as totally anonymous as you think you are. If you started small, like… oh, I don't know, a hole-in-the-wall karaoke bar where nobody would really be paying that much attention or know you and remember you… it wouldn't be that huge of a leap."

"Mercedes would know and remember," Blaine argued, glancing over at the side of the stage where Mercedes was taking sign-ups.

"She's already seen you perform, though, even if just through Youtube," Wes pointed out.

Blaine bit gently on his lip as he tried to come up with other reasons not to. "I still don't know…"

"What if we did a duet?" Wes offered. "If you got uncomfortable, I could just take over."

Blaine continued chewing on his lower lip.

"Look, I'm not going to force you," Wes said gently. "It was just a suggestion. If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's your own thing, and you can work through it however you want. Don't let me force you to do something that you don't want to do. Take your time and do it at your own pace - it doesn't have to be tonight."

Blaine gave him a small smile. "You're a good friend, you know that?"

Wes grinned. "Takes one to know one."

Blaine took a drink of his beer while he thought about Wes's suggestion. "You know what? Let's try it. It can't hurt, right?"

Wes's smile grew wider. "Excellent. What song do you want to do?"

_[Author note: I'm apologizing again - this backstory is taking longer than I expected, but as I'm writing, things are just kind of happening that I want to explore. I PROMISE we're almost to the meeting. I'm trying to get the chapters out as quickly as possible because I know you are all eager for them to meet (as am I) and you're being really, really patient with me, which I really appreciate! Also, since I am getting these out rather quickly, if you notice any typos/errors/problems or have any suggestions, feel free to leave me a message/review - I love hearing from you!]_


	11. Chapter 11

Despite Rachel's best efforts to cheer him up, Kurt was still feeling gloomy when they left for Warblers. Thanks to the meal Rachel had helped him prepare and made sure he ate, the alcohol wasn't hitting him quite as hard, but he'd had some more wine with dinner so he was still tipsier than usual. Rachel had offered to stay in with him and just watch cheesy movies, but Kurt had insisted on going out to Warblers.

When they got there, it was almost ten. Kurt pushed through to the bar and asked Santana to do him a favor and make his usual "extra-strong." He lisped a little on the "s" and she gave him a skeptical look. "Sounds like you've already had some 'extra-strong' drinks," she observed.

"Santana, please. It's been a rough night."

Santana glanced at him, then back at Rachel over his shoulder, before shrugging. "Whatever. I don't want to hear any complaints about how I made it too strong and got you off-key or whatever it is you divas whine about."

Kurt made an X over his heart. "No complaints. Cross my heart."

Santana rolled her eyes and made them their drinks. Kurt found them a table and Rachel went to sign them up for karaoke. Luckily, Mercedes had already put them on the list again, so even though they were pretty late tonight and the bar was fairly full, Kurt was performing sixth and Rachel second. As always, they were well-received, even though Kurt had slightly fumbled a line.

After he had performed, Kurt returned to the table. "I want to sing again."

Rachel eyed his empty drink. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Kurt nodded emphatically, the movement exaggerated. "I know the perfect song!"

Rachel gave him the kind of indulgent smile you would give a small child. "Okay, what song?"

Kurt leaned forward as if telling her a secret. "Come What May."

Rachel looked confused. "Your perfect song is the song you want to sing at your wedding?"

Kurt nodded again. "You see, because I'm never getting married! That should have been my song with Adam, but Adam's marrying someone else and I'm going to be alone forever, so as an ode to the wedding that will never happen, I will sing it here tonight instead."

Rachel seemed even more confused by his explanation, and Kurt wondered if he was drunker than he thought and slurring his words. "Just trust me. It's perfect," he insisted.

She still didn't seem convinced, but instead of pestering him with more questions on his motive, she asked, "Isn't that song usually a duet?"

Kurt gave her a suggestive smile.

"Oh, no, no. No. I'm not singing that with you."

Kurt turned his smile into the most pathetic frown he could manage. "Please, Rachel?" he pleaded. "Don't you want to help me feel better?"

Kurt could tell by the way Rachel's face softened that he had her. "And this is going to make you feel better?" she clarified.

"Absolutely. It's closure," Kurt assured her.

She eyed him for a minute, and he gave her his saddest puppy dog expression until she finally caved. "Okay, fine. You can sign us up for it."

Kurt was already standing before she even finished talking. He leaned down and gave her a slightly sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Thank you!" He ran up the stage to go sign up.

Mercedes smiled at him in greeting. "Back so soon?"

Kurt nodded. "Rachel and I are going to duet."

She clapped in excitement. "Yay! You know I love that." She pulled her sign-up list toward her. "What song?"

"Come What May," Kurt announced.

Mercedes's smile vanished. "What?"

"Come What May," Kurt repeated. "You know, from _Moulin Rouge?_"

Mercedes looked up at him with a soft rejection in her eyes. "I'm sorry, baby, but… someone already has that song for tonight."

Kurt's mouth dropped open, and he immediately began scanning the bar from his vantage point on the stage. "What? No. That's impossible. Nobody here ever has taste."

"I know it's hard to believe – I can't even remember the last time anyone requested that song, but it's true," Mercedes replied.

Kurt shook his head. "No. Did Rachel tell you to say this? I knew she didn't want to sing it, but that is low, even for her."

Mercedes patted his arm soothingly. "Rachel didn't tell me to say that. It's true. Someone already requested it, just a little while ago." She rotated the sign-up sheet so it faced him and pointed to a line about halfway down the page. "See?"

Kurt still couldn't believe it, but the proof was right there. Next to number 13 was written "Come What May." Kurt whined, "But Mercedes, it's the perfect song! It's _my _song. I _need _to sing it."

Mercedes looked apologetic. "I'm sorry, Kurt, but you know the policy. I wish I could do something… Maybe I can help you figure out another song."

Kurt shook his head. "No. No other song. It has to be that one." He glanced back down at the sign-ups. "You can help me. Tell me who Blaine and Wes are. I'll go beg them to give me my song."

For some reason, Mercedes seemed conflicted, but Kurt didn't understand why. "Baby… I can't do that," she finally said.

"Why not?" Kurt asked. "You're not a lawyer or something. There's no such thing as DJ-karaoke singer privilege."

Mercedes's eyes slid away. "I can't because I don't know who they are."

"You're lying," Kurt said immediately. "You have the best memory of anyone I've ever known when it comes to names and faces."

Mercedes made eye contact again. "Okay, fine, but I still can't tell you."

"Why not?" Kurt repeated.

"It's… complicated."

Kurt tried his begging expression. If it had worked once on Rachel, maybe it would work on Mercedes. "Please, Mercedes? I won't even make them give up the song. One of them can still sing with me. Or they can sing something else in that slot and I will sing it with Rachel later. I'll just ask nicely. Please?"

Like Rachel, Mercedes also seemed to be susceptible to his pleading puppy-dog expression, because she softened a little. "I don't know…"

Kurt exhaled in frustration. "Look, I didn't want to spill the whole sob story, but my ex-boyfriend who I wanted to marry but who didn't believe in marriage just texted me today to tell me he's engaged to someone else, and he's only known this other guy like a minute, and we were together for like ever, and he didn't want to marry me because he just wasn't the 'marriage type' but now he apparently is because he wants to marry this other guy… he _proposed _to this other guy… and I just need to sing this song to get closure because it should be our wedding and our wedding song and he is giving it to someone else!" Kurt knew he had talked a little too quickly and the sentence was a little run-on, but he hoped Mercedes had understood.

She seemed to have gotten enough of it to relent, because she said, "Just promise me one thing – if they say no, you'll leave them alone."

For the second time that night, Kurt found himself drawing an X over his heart. "Cross my heart."

Mercedes leaned forward and pointed to a table along the far wall. "See the guy with the smoothly gelled dark hair and the bow tie? That's Blaine."

Kurt pulled her in and gave her a quick hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! Wish me luck!"

As he crossed the bar toward the man Mercedes had pointed out, he felt like there was something oddly familiar about the guy. He was racking his brain trying to figure out where he might have seen him before, but nothing came to mind. The way the table was positioned, Blaine had his back mostly to Kurt and couldn't see him approaching. Stepping up behind him, Kurt cleared his throat and said simply, "Excuse me, but I believe you stole my song."


	12. Chapter 12

From the moment he had gone up to sign up with Mercedes, Blaine's heart had been racing. He couldn't believe he was going to do this. If Mercedes had been surprised to see him there without Sam and signing up to sing karaoke, she had done an excellent job of disguising it. She'd greeted him enthusiastically and handed him the sign-up sheet. Once he'd filled it out, she'd given him a wink and told him she'd see him soon.

When he returned to the table, he started concentrating on breathing slowly and relaxing. Wes had seemed to understand that Blaine needed some quiet, because Wes hadn't said much.

Despite trying to focus on himself and block out most of the bar around him, Blaine couldn't help but notice when Kurt and his friend showed up. Both did their usual numbers. Blaine noticed that Kurt seemed a little more distracted than usual, even making a small mistake, but his performance was still incredible. Blaine doubted anyone else had really noticed Kurt's error.

Blaine wasn't sure if he was more or less nervous that Kurt was there. On the one hand, Kurt had been a big part of his inspiration lately, and having a source of inspiration nearby was always helpful. Maybe it would give Blaine the courage he needed. On the other hand, it was Kurt, the most incredibly perfect performer Blaine had ever seen. Did he want to ruin the fantasy he had created in his head, where one day he'd come in and Mercedes would introduce them and Kurt would be immediately smitten, by performing horribly in front of him?

Wes kept giving him supportive smiles whenever their eyes met, and Blaine told himself to stop worrying about Kurt. Tonight was about Blaine conquering his fears of the stage, hopefully, not building up ridiculous fantasies about beautiful men he'd never met.

After Kurt's performance, Wes had remarked, "Wow. You were right. There are some great performers who come in here." Since then, he and Blaine had been having a shallow conversation, which Blaine was trying to focus on as a distraction, instead of thinking about the fact that their duet was rapidly approaching.

They were just discussing an a cappella group Wes had recently found on Youtube when Wes's eyes suddenly shifted to something behind Blaine. A split second later, a voice said, "Excuse me, but I believe you stole my song."

Blaine whirled around, ready for a confrontation, and found… Kurt. He froze. Kurt was even more beautiful this close. Just like every other time Blaine had seen him, Kurt was impeccably dressed, his hair neatly swept up away from his forehead. His skin looked smooth and creamy like porcelain, and his eyes were a clear blue. Blaine blinked a few times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating before replying, "_Your _song?" Mentally, he patted himself on the back for not blurting out something far more embarrassing, like, "Marry me."

Kurt nodded and pulled up an empty chair from the table behind them. "Don't worry, though. I have a proposition." He sounded rather cheerful, considering how confrontational his opening line had been, and Blaine wasn't quite sure how to reply.

"A proposition?" he finally echoed. _Great, Blaine. Excellent conversation. Way to make an impression_, he chided himself.

Kurt settled into the chair and propped his hands on the table, looking almost as if he were chairing a boardroom meeting rather than talking to a couple of strangers in a karaoke bar. "Yes. A proposition. You see, my friend doesn't really care about singing the duet with me, so I was hoping one of you might relinquish your position and allow me to sing the duet with the other." Kurt eyed Blaine and Wes in turn.

Blaine shifted in his chair. "You want to sing the duet with one of us?" he clarified.

"If you wouldn't mind."

Blaine shot a look at Wes. "I don't know," Wes said, catching onto Blaine's panic. "We were kind of looking forward to doing it together."

"Oh!" Kurt gasped, as if he had made some discovery. He looked quickly between them. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Of course. That's a lovely song for a couple, and you two look like a lovely couple. I'll get over it. Carry on. You deserve it." Kurt pushed his chair out and stood.

"Wait, no, we're not a couple," Blaine stated quickly. "Wes is… I mean, I'm… um, never mind. But we're not a couple."

Wes gave Blaine a questioning look of surprise. After all, pretending they were a couple would have been the perfect excuse to say no, and Blaine knew that even though Wes was straight and happily engaged, he would have gone along with it if it meant Blaine could avoid awkward questions.

The problem was… Blaine didn't want to say no. He didn't really want to say yes either, because what if he screwed everything up and embarrassed himself in front of Kurt? But he didn't want to say no, because this might be his only chance to interact with Kurt. Plus, what were the odds of them ever running into each other again, in a city this size? Unless Blaine came back to Warblers on a Friday, he could easily go his entire life without ever seeing Kurt again, if he had to. Not that he wanted to. But if he had to. If he screwed up. _And I'm not going to screw up_, he told himself.

Kurt was waiting expectantly, standing between his chair and the table. Blaine took a deep breath and glanced over at Wes. "If Wes doesn't mind, you can sing with me," he offered, hoping he wouldn't regret it.

Wes seemed to be taking visual inventory of Blaine's emotional state. When he seemed satisfied that Blaine was okay, Wes shrugged. "Fine with me."

Kurt's face broke out into the most glorious smile, and Blaine's worries about regret vanished. There was no way he could regret anything that put a smile like that on Kurt's face. Even if everything went catastrophically wrong and he had to move to another country and change his name out of shame, Blaine wouldn't regret it.

Kurt sank bank into his chair. "Thank you, thank you, thank you," he gushed. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

_To me, too, _Blaine thought.


	13. Chapter 13

While Kurt was thrilled how this had all worked out, some part of him, the more sober part, couldn't believe he had just walked up to a stranger in a bar and practically demanded to be allowed to sing a duet with him.

Kurt was just glad Blaine's back had been to him when he'd approached, because he didn't think, even in his tipsy state, that he would have had the courage to talk to Blaine if he had seen Blaine from the front first. Blaine was ridiculously attractive, with the elegant looks of a 50s movie star. Unlike most of the men in Warblers, who were in jeans and polo shirts, Blaine was in a sweater vest and bow tie, with a pair of bright red pants so tight, they should be illegal. Not that Kurt was staring. It just so happened that he had ended up following Blaine up the stairs to the stage. He couldn't help it if it put Blaine's… _assets… _at eye level.

The only flaw to this plan was that they hadn't had very much time to coordinate. Kurt was pretty sure this was going to be a disaster, but at least he was getting to sing. By the time he'd gotten Blaine to agree to let Kurt sing, then told Rachel she was off the hook, there had only been enough time to agree on which parts they were each going to sing. That hadn't taken long, since Kurt knew it was unlikely Blaine was also a countertenor, so the odds of him wanting the female part were low. Once that had been settled, Kurt had tried to find out if Blaine even could sing, but Blaine had been surprisingly coy. He'd simply insisted he could sing, but refused to give Kurt any proof. "You'll have to trust me," he'd replied with a wink when Kurt had begged for a short sample.

Now here they were, waiting on the side of the stage while Mercedes introduced them, and Kurt had no idea what to expect. He had never been so underprepared for a performance before. It was making him a little nervous, even if it was only Warblers. Looking over at Blaine didn't help, because Blaine had his eyes closed and looked as if he were about to pass out. Not a good sign.

Kurt followed Blaine to the center of the stage and waited as the music started. Blaine had closed his eyes again and had his head bowed. His microphone was tucked under his chin. Kurt was prepared to take over the male part as well, because it didn't seem like Blaine was going to be able to do this. How was he going to do karaoke if he couldn't even see the words and get his cue?

As the opening line scrolled onto the screen and the countdown began, Kurt lifted his microphone to his mouth, ready to go. Hell, he could duet with himself. He'd done it a million times in his room.

Just as the first word lit up, Blaine's eyes snapped open and his head lifted, and Kurt froze. "Never knew I could feel like this," he began in a smooth and surprisingly familiar voice. Kurt's mouth dropped open. He would recognize that voice anywhere.

Kurt knew he was ruining the performance atmosphere by gaping, but unknowingly, he had just stumbled into a duet to his favorite love song with his Youtube fantasy man, Nightbirdsong.

[_Author note: I feel like this chapter is a little rough and doesn't nearly do the build-up justice, but for now, this will have to do. I may rewrite it/add to it later. In case you haven't noticed based on my frequent updates, this fic has kind of taken over my life, so I'm just trying to get as much of it out of my system so I can hopefully get a little over my obsession. For now, though, I'll keep feverishly updating with slightly rough writing, so the next chapter probably won't be too far behind. Thank you all for the positive reviews/feedback so far!_]


	14. Chapter 14

Blaine heard the music starting. He tried to focus on that and only that, ignoring all the background noise of the bar. His eyes were closed as he withdrew into himself, looking deep within for the courage to perform. He focused on memories of his high school self, fearless and confident, leading the glee club to victories as the soloist for most of sophomore, junior, and senior years. He remembered the thrill of being on stage, the energy of the crowd, the joy of sharing his voice and his passion with so many people.

The intro was almost over. _Moulin Rouge _was one of Blaine's favorite movies, and the soundtrack had always featured prominently on any playlists he made. Blaine could sing this song in his sleep (and probably had); he knew his cue was coming soon. Some small part of his brain registered the way Kurt's boots were shuffling slightly on the stage nearby, and Blaine figured he was nervous. Blaine knew he wasn't inspiring much confidence right now, acting like he was still in his backstage prep ritual and not seconds away from performing, but he didn't care. His only goal was getting the first word out. If he could do that, he thought there was a pretty good chance he'd survive this.

The last note of the intro faded. Blaine took one last deep breath, lifted his head, and opened his eyes. "Never knew I could feel like this," he sang. He felt a little shaky, and he wondered if his voice sounded as hesitant as he felt.

When he finished the second line, Blaine felt a little more sure of himself. This wasn't going to be his best performance, but he was going to survive it. Instead of holding him back, the adrenaline and his racing heart caused by the fear were fueling his determination and his excitement. The rush was familiar, a long-buried memory from his past of his cockier self, naïve enough to think that his talent was so special the world would just fall at his feet.

By the time he hit "Seasons may change," Blaine was feeling pretty good. He even felt bold enough to risk a glance over at Kurt… who was staring at Blaine as if he had sprouted wings and another head. It almost threw Blaine, but he hadn't become the lead soloist for one of the best show choirs in Ohio without encountering the occasional distraction. He shrugged it off and continued settling into his performance persona, focusing on portraying a man deeply and passionately in love, serenading his duet partner with promises of eternal love.

As he stepped closer to Kurt to finish the chorus, he noticed a slight redness to Kurt's face. Was he… blushing? Blaine couldn't imagine why. Kurt was definitely distracted by something, though, because he missed his cue by a split second, hardly noticeable except to Blaine, who saw Kurt startle in shock when he realized.

Kurt quickly recovered and threw himself into the performance with all the passion and feeling Blaine had come to expect from Kurt, and it gave Blaine a heady rush to experience that up close. It fed his confidence and pulled him even more deeply into the performance.

Blaine started to lose track of everything. The time, the crowd, the lights, the microphone. It was as if all that existed were Blaine and Kurt, two voices that fit together effortlessly, their harmonies blending more like two seasoned partners than two strangers. The roar of the crowd at the end of the final note was like a harsh alarm, intruding on this magical world he and Kurt had just built here on the stage. Kurt seemed to experience the same sudden awakening, because he blinked a few times as if refocusing. Then he glanced down at their joined hands – when had that happened? – and blushed again. Gone was the cocky, confident performer Blaine had come to know; in its place was an uncomfortable, shy, and utterly _adorable_ man shooting nervous looks at Blaine from under his eyelashes.

Blaine immediately released Kurt's hand and turned with him toward the crowd. Blaine gave a quick bow while Kurt curtsied. Kurt was closer to the stairs, so he led the way off the stage. Kurt moved to the side so as not to block the path to the stage, and Blaine followed him.

"Well…" Kurt gave an awkward laugh. "Um, thanks for that. I appreciate it. It was a pleasure. You're a great performer. Sorry I doubted you. Have a nice night." The sentences were short and all jumbled together, as if Kurt was in a hurry to get out of there. Kurt gave a weak smile and started to step around Blaine.

"Wait, what? That's it?" Blaine was still shell-shocked. He had just performed on stage for the first time in 8 years. Sure, it was just a random karaoke bar, but… it was still a stage. And he felt… euphoric. That familiar post-performance energy was coursing through his veins, combined with the potent magical feeling Kurt induced. Blaine hadn't really thought through what would happen after their duet, but Kurt saying goodbye and disappearing was certainly not how Blaine wanted it to end.

Kurt's eyes were darting around nervously. "Yeah, I, um… I have to go."

Blaine stepped a little further away from Kurt to give him space. Blaine didn't understand why Kurt suddenly looked like a caged animal desperate for escape, but Blaine certainly didn't want to make him uncomfortable. If Kurt wanted to go, Blaine would let him go.

"I really enjoyed it. It was great performing with you," Blaine said, and Kurt's eyes held his for a minute as yet another blush crept up his face. What was with the blushing? Blaine didn't understand. He felt like he had missed something important, and now Kurt was slipping away.

Kurt nodded jerkily. "Yeah, it was great. Um… thanks again." He turned and started walking away.

Blaine watched Kurt go, with a sinking feeling that their story had just ended before it began.

[_Author note: I know this is kind of a cruel place to break this chapter, but you've all been great about sticking with me so far, so please don't leave me now! I won't leave you hanging too long this time. And again, thank you all for the positive comments - I've loved hearing from you! As always, any feedback is always welcome :) ]_


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt made a beeline for the table where Rachel was still sitting. As soon as he was within hearing range, she pressed her hand to her heart and gave him a huge smile. "Kurt, that was…" she began.

Kurt didn't even sit. "Come on, we have to go."

Rachel looked taken aback. "What? Why?"

"Rachel, please. Let's go." Kurt resisted the urge to look over his shoulder and see if Blaine was still there. The situation was bad enough already; there was no need to embarrass himself further by acting like a stalker.

"But Kurt, that was _incredible. _You and that guy were so… so…" She couldn't seem to find the right word, so she just fluttered her hands and sighed.

Kurt was already collecting Rachel's bag from the floor and trying to sling it over her shoulder. "Rachel, don't you recognize him?" He knew he probably looked a little ridiculous, panicking the way he was, but he needed to get Rachel out of there… and fast.

Rachel peered around Kurt's shoulder to get another look at him. "Don't look at him!" Kurt hissed.

"Well, I don't recognize him. Should I?" Rachel asked as Kurt hustled her toward the door, pushing her along in front of him.

"He's Nightbirdsong!" Kurt told her.

Rachel stopped abruptly, and Kurt bumped into her back. "What?! How do you know?"

"I recognized his voice," Kurt confessed, trying to get her to move again, but she wouldn't budge.

She twisted to look up at Kurt over her shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"Rachel, I've listened to the man non-stop, all day, every day, for the last several months. Trust me, I know his voice. He's Nightbirdsong."

Rachel turned all the way around. "Then why are we leaving? Go talk to him!"

Kurt's eyes widened in horror. "Are you kidding me? I can't talk to him!"

"Kurt, he's your fantasy man!"

"Which is exactly why I can't talk to him! Do you have any idea what a fool I just made of myself?"

"By what, singing an amazing duet full of chemistry and passion?"

Kurt finally gave up on trying to get Rachel to move and walked around her. He knew she'd follow him. When she caught up, he answered, "Not the duet itself. That was amazing. Even I know that. But the fact that I forced him into that duet… who does that? Who goes up to a random stranger's table in a karaoke bar, accuses the stranger of stealing their song, and then forces the stranger to sing a love song with them? Nobody, Rachel, except pathetic losers like me."

They were out on the street now, Kurt walking as quickly as possible to the subway station a few blocks away, while Rachel practically jogged to keep up with him. "But Kurt… he agreed… didn't he?" she huffed between breaths.

"Probably because I didn't really give him a choice and he saw it as the only way to get rid of the lunatic who had appeared out of nowhere demanding a duet!"

Rachel stumbled and twisted her ankle. "Ow! These shoes were _not _meant for jogging," she muttered. She rotated her foot a few times to work out the pain, then gingerly put some weight on it. She hissed slightly in pain, but after a few tentative steps she exhaled in relief. "Alright, nothing serious. Now. Back to you. You aren't a lunatic, Kurt."

Kurt gave her a skeptical look as they walked at a much slower pace toward the subway.

"Okay, maybe at this exact moment, you are a little bit," she conceded. "But clearly Nightbirdsong…"

"Blaine," Kurt corrected.

"Oh, was that his name? I didn't catch it when Mercedes introduced you. That's a nice name. It fits him well, doesn't it?" Rachel mused.

"Rachel…" Kurt groaned.

"Right. What was I saying?" She paused for a moment, searching for her train of thought. "Oh! Clearly _Blaine _didn't mind. After all, that duet was…" She let out a little _whew_ and fanned herself.

Kurt rolled his eyes. "He was just being a good performer, Rachel. We already knew he was incredibly talented."

They had reached the subway stop. At the bottom of the stairs, Rachel moved to the side and began fishing through her bag for her MetroCard. Distractedly, she replied, "I don't think he was just performing, Kurt."

Kurt scoffed. "You think he was madly in love with me? Rachel, the man doesn't even know me."

Rachel had put a few cards from the bottom of her bag in her mouth to free her hands to continue searching, but Kurt could still make out her reply. "Yeah, because you ran away."

"What did you want me to do, stay and make more of a fool of myself?" Kurt protested.

Rachel had finally found her MetroCard, and she held it up in triumph. She dropped everything else back into her purse, then followed Kurt through the turnstile. "Why would you have made a fool of yourself? You could have just stayed and talked to the guy."

"By saying what? 'Hey, in case you're not uncomfortable enough with me already, considering I just harassed you into performing karaoke with me, I also happen to be obsessed with you on Youtube'?" Kurt maneuvered down the crowded subway platform until he found a space for them to stand.

"I'm sure you could have found a nicer way to say that to make it sound flattering," Rachel insisted.

"I'm sure it wouldn't have mattered. To him, I'll always be that weird guy who approached him at a karaoke bar and practically begged him to sing with me."

Rachel opened her mouth to argue, and Kurt held up a hand. "Seriously, Rachel, I know you're trying to help, but there is nothing you can say to change my mind. Nightbirdsong – Blaine – was an amazing fantasy, but like any good fantasy, it couldn't survive in the harsh light of reality. Now it's over."

Rachel pursed her lips like there was more she wanted to stay, but she seemed to decide against it. The train pulled up and they got on silently, and for the first time in a long time, Kurt didn't immediately pull out his phone to drown out the noise of the subway with Nightbirdsong. He wasn't sure he'd ever really be able to listen to him again, and he could only hope that in a city the size of New York, he and Blaine would never again cross paths.


	16. Chapter 16

Blaine stayed standing at the base of the stairs for a few minutes, processing, which made it easy for Mercedes to find him when she snuck off stage in the middle of a performance.

"Blaine, that was _awesome!_" she gushed, wrapping him in a huge hug.

"Thanks," he murmured distractedly.

"Seriously, I am so proud of you, and Sam is going to be so excited when he finds out, and I know I'm not supposed to be down here but I just had to tell you how proud I am of you. I knew you could sing, but that was incredible!" Then she glanced around. "Where's Kurt?"

Blaine was still staring at the door. "He left."

"He what?" Mercedes's eyes shot to the table where Rachel and Kurt had been sitting, as if she didn't believe him. When she found it empty, her brows drew together in confusion. "He left?"

"Apparently," Blaine replied.

Mercedes looked over at Blaine and opened her mouth to say something, just as a group of people filed up the stairs to the stage. Mercedes looked over at the singer on stage and realized he was wrapping up. "Oh, crap. I gotta go. I'll catch you later?" She was gone before Blaine could reply.

Blaine finally made his way back to the table where he had left Wes. Wes was grinning broadly. "That was fantastic! You did it!" he said proudly, holding out his fist. Blaine curled up his hand and let their knuckles bump.

"How do you feel?" Wes asked, still grinning.

Blaine was still scanning the bar, as if he expected Kurt to reappear. "Confused."

Wes's grin dropped. "Confused?" he repeated.

Blaine turned his attention back to Wes. "Yeah. You saw that, right?"

"Your performance?" Wes asked. "Yes, I saw that. I just congratulated you on it, remember?" He was giving Blaine a concerned look, as if he thought Blaine might have hit his head and lost his mind or something.

Blaine shook his head. "Not the performance. Well, not the singing part, anyway. You saw the… the…" Blaine waved his hands in a circle, as if he could conjure the word he was looking for from the air.

"The singing. The performance. The stage." Wes guessed rapidly and narrowed his eyes in concentration like he was playing a game of Charades. "Give me something to work with here, Blaine."

"The… you know… between me and Kurt…" Blaine gesticulated wildly.

"Chemistry? Intensity? Heat?" Wes offered.

"_Yes!_" Blaine shouted loudly enough that the people at the next table looked over. Blaine held up his hands in apology. "Sorry," he offered. Then he turned back to Wes. "That's exactly what I mean."

"I didn't just see it, I felt it. I've got some residual burn," Wes joked.

"You felt it, _I _felt it… Kurt had to have felt it, right?"

"People at the epicenter of an earthquake typically don't sleep through it," Wes replied.

Blaine squinted his eyes and raised his hands in confusion. "You couldn't just say yes?"

Wes shrugged.

"Alright, well, your weird word choice aside, how could he feel that and run?"

Wes picked up his beer and finished it off. "Maybe he was worried about the aftershocks?" he suggested.

"Really? Sticking with the earthquake thing?" Blaine asked skeptically.

"It's a solid metaphor!" Wes defended.

Blaine didn't want to get into an argument about semantics. "Fine. Whatever. We'll use your metaphor. Aren't survivors supposed to band together after a natural disaster?"

"Actually, people react very differently to life-changing events. There's no protocol, and in fact, each person has a very unique and personal response to handling stress and unexpected alterations to their routine…" Wes began.

Blaine held up a hand. "Right. I forgot you're a social worker. Pretend I didn't ask."

"No, but it's actually quite interesting," Wes started, "the way…"

Blaine gave him a pleading look. "I'm sure it is, but please, send me an email or something. For now, can we just get out of here?"

"Oh, yeah, sure."

They stood and headed for the door. As they waited for a cab, Wes glanced over at Blaine. "I am really proud of you. You did a really awesome thing tonight."

"This another social worker thing? Positive reinforcement?" Blaine teased.

Wes shook his head. "Nah, just a friend happy to see his friend rediscovering a part of himself again."

Blaine had gotten so caught up in Kurt's quick exit, he hadn't really processed the bigger implications of tonight. "I got up on a stage and sang," he said in awe.

Wes smiled. "You did indeed."

Blaine let out a laugh of excited triumph as Wes stepped forward to hail a cab coming down the street. Once they had settled in the back and given the driver their addresses, Blaine looked over at his friend. "Thanks for tonight."

Wes's mouth quirked in a small smile. "You're welcome, I guess, but I didn't do anything."

"Yes, you did," Blaine argued. "I never would have done that without you there."

Wes shook his head. "You would have done it eventually, with or without me. I'm just glad I got to be there to see it."

Blaine knew it wasn't worth arguing with Wes further. He would continue to insist he had done nothing, but Blaine would never have gotten up without Wes's support. Blaine settled back in the cab and focused on being grateful for the great friends he had rather than the seemingly perfect guy he had lost.


	17. Chapter 17

The mild hangover headache was the first clue Kurt had that he hadn't just dreamt the events of the previous night. The next was the series of texts on his phone.

Rachel: "Good morning, sunshine! I'm at brunch with some girls from work. Hope you're feeling alright this morning, and remember, a good performance is never something to be ashamed of!"

Mercedes: "Kuuuuurt, why did you leave so quickly last night?! You were so good!"

Santana: "You better be in the middle of a sexual marathon with that fun-sized piece of man candy you sang with last night, or we are never speaking again."

Adam: "Thanks! I am so excited, in case you couldn't tell ;) Coffee soon? We should catch up."

Kurt groaned and buried his head under his pillow. Maybe later he'd look into Witness Protection, because watching yourself act like a complete and total fool had to be a crime worthy of an identity change.

One thing was for sure: he was never going back to Warblers.

Kurt's resolution didn't last very long. The first Friday after The Humiliation (as Kurt referred to it mentally, capitalization absolutely included), Kurt was able to talk his way out of going to Warblers, though Kurt suspected that was more due to the fact that Rachel had a date and wanted to show off. The second week, though, Rachel wouldn't take no for an answer.

"You're coming. It's what we do, Kurt, and we're not changing that because you can't deal with some silly embarrassment caused by an absurd fantasy over some man's hands on Youtube."

"For the last time, I wasn't obsessed with his hands!" Kurt argued.

Rachel ignored him. She stood in his bedroom doorway, tapping her foot impatiently. "You have ten minutes to change and then we're leaving."

Kurt scoffed. "What are you going to do to me if I say no?"

"Oh, don't worry. Physically I may not be very intimidating, but I've got some things up my sleeve." Rachel's eyes gleamed mischievously. "In fact, Santana and I…"

Kurt shot off his bed. "Dirty trick, Rachel. You know I'm terrified of her evil mind being turned against me."

Rachel smiled victoriously. "See you in ten minutes."

Kurt was already scrambling through his closet to find an outfit.

Twenty minutes later ("because I don't care what you and Santana are going to do to me, Rachel, you can't rush fashion!"), Kurt and Rachel were on the subway to Warblers. Rachel kept eyeing him as if she expected him to suddenly stage a riot or something. Kurt pretended not to notice her.

Kurt would never admit it to Rachel, but getting him out to Warblers was probably for the best. If he'd stayed in, he probably would have obsessively refreshed Nightbirdsong's/Blaine's Youtube channel, looking for new stuff. He hadn't posted anything since The Humiliation, leaving Kurt to rewatch old videos over and over again. Kurt had become an expert at ignoring the sharp sting of embarrassment he felt every time and instead focusing on the unfamiliar fluttering sensation that filled him as he remembered that attached to that set of hands was a gorgeous man who had sang an incredible duet with Kurt to Kurt's favorite love song. And while he would deny it with every breath in his body, there was a tiny, secret part of him, buried beneath the layers of embarrassment, that hoped he might happen to bump into Blaine again at Warblers tonight.


	18. Chapter 18

Though he was sorely tempted, Blaine decided not to go back to Warblers. After the way Kurt had run, Blaine didn't think Kurt would be too excited to see him there. Warblers was Kurt's place, so Blaine would give him his space. Blaine knew that made the odds of them ever running into each other again very slim, but Blaine was a romantic. If it was meant to be, it would happen. Somehow. And if it wasn't meant to be, well, Blaine had sang the most epic duet of his life with a beautiful man, and wasn't that enough?

For the first week, that was enough. Blaine relived every bit of the duet in graphic detail in his memory, like a favorite movie scene replayed over and over. He caught himself daydreaming at work more than once. A few nights, he even woke up from dreams of the duet, feeling happy and satisfied.

After a week, though, the bubble began to deflate. Blaine found it harder and harder to concentrate on the duet itself and instead fixated on the aftermath. Instead of replaying the moments on stage, Blaine replayed the moments just after. He remembered standing there, his heart in his eyes and on his sleeve and spilling out of his body, while Kurt searched for an escape route. He had been utterly and completely shaken to his core by Wes's metaphorical earthquake, and Kurt had just run off.

Two weeks after the duet, Blaine had hit his breaking point. There were so many feelings churning inside him, and he needed an outlet. Automatically, he found himself going for his keyboard. He randomly plucked out some melodies, and after two weeks away from his music, it felt soothing to be back. He kept mindlessly playing while he tried to figure out a song that would capture his feelings. It came to him rather quickly, and he stopped to grab his camera.

"How can I just let you walk away, just let you leave without a trace?" he began to sing, and he felt the anger and frustration edging out into his song. By the time he was done, Blaine felt calm again. Just like the song said, Kurt coming back to him was against all odds, but it was a chance he had to take. So he would wait, and hope.

By the first weekend of July, Blaine had just about given up hope of ever seeing Kurt again. After yet another Friday night spent thinking back to that magical Friday in June, he awoke on Saturday morning grateful for distracting plans that evening. Mercedes decided to throw herself a joint 25th birthday party/4th of July celebration. Having been Sam's best friend for almost 7 years now, Blaine had celebrated quite a few birthdays with Mercedes, but this year she was "throwing the party she'd always dreamed of having" instead of the usual small gatherings at dorm rooms, apartments, or cheap bars. She and Sam had just moved to a bigger place, so there was finally room to host a larger party. Plus, as Mercedes justified, "You don't hit a quarter of a century every day."

Blaine got there early, to help Sam with set-up. Even though the party was Mercedes's idea and she had done most of the planning, Sam had insisted on actually executing her ideas. Sam didn't think Mercedes should have to be worrying about details and playing hostess at her own party. While Mercedes was in her room getting ready, belting out a series of Beyonce songs, Blaine and Sam set up tables with snacks, made sure the bar area was well-stocked with alcohol, and hung a mishmash of patriotic Independence Day and bright, flashy birthday decorations.

As they were finishing up, a dark-haired woman Blaine recognized as the bartender from Warblers showed up, carrying a huge cardboard box. "Put it away, Trouty Mouth, I've got better stuff," she said as Sam was rearranging alcohol by the bar. She dropped the box on the floor, and the distinctive sound of rattling bottles echoed through the apartment. Bending at the waist, she quickly transferred the bottles from the box to the bar with a graceful efficiency. Just as she was finishing, a shorter woman with chunky blonde highlights appeared in the doorway, carrying a box of equal size. "Hey, babe, where do you want this?" she asked.

The dark-haired woman kicked the now-empty box away and gestured to the vacated space, and the shorter woman placed the box there and helped unload. Sam didn't seem the least bit distressed by this invasion of the bar area, calmly moving bottles out of the way and restacking them on the shelf behind the bar.

When they had finished, the dark-haired woman arranged glasses and bottles to her liking, then glared over at Sam. "I'm warning you right now, don't even think about touching anything in this area or your birthday gift to your girlfriend will be your detached, limp…"

"Santana!" the shorter woman chided.

"Please, Trouty Mouth isn't offended. He's heard worse."

"Yeah, from you," the shorter woman retorted, but Santana ignored her. She'd just caught sight of Blaine, who had been watching the entire scene from a stepladder in the corner, the forgotten streamers in his hand blowing slightly in the air-conditioned room.

"Well, well, well. Fun-Size," the dark-haired woman said. "Tonight just got significantly more interesting." Then she looked over at Sam. "Does Cullen know he's here?"

Sam looked confused. "Who's Cullen?"

"I'll take that as a no. Excellent. This is going to be spectacular." Though the words sounded excited, the tone was more evil mastermind than enthusiastic party guest. Between that and the steady scrutiny Santana was giving him, Blaine was becoming extremely uncomfortable.

Finally, the shorter woman gently elbowed Santana. "Alright, he's sufficiently terrified." Then she turned her attention to Blaine and smiled brightly. "Hi, I'm Dani, and this ill-mannered vixen—" she inclined her head toward Santana, and though the words were harsh, there was a clear undercurrent of affection "—is my girlfriend Santana. Don't let her get to you; her bark is worse than her bite."

"You seemed plenty satisfied with my bite last night," Santana drawled.

Dani didn't even flinch. "You weren't the only one biting," she replied.

In the corner, Sam coughed, clearly uncomfortable with the way this conversation was going. Blaine was too overwhelmed to even react.

As if nothing unusual had just happened, Dani stepped forward and offered her hand. Blaine shook himself mentally and reached out his hand. "I'm Blaine," he managed to reply, as normally as he could considering the introductions had been interrupted by a conversation about their sex life.

Dani smiled brightly and began speaking, but Blaine was too distracted by the return of Santana's calculating look to hear what Dani was saying. Something was going on here that Blaine didn't understand, but he was mildly terrified to find out what.

_[Author note: Big, big, big thanks to TerribleSpy, who suggested incorporating "Against All Odds" for Blaine's YouTube. I couldn't have found/chosen anything more perfect. Thank you all for the comments, follows, and favorites, and for continuing to read!]_


	19. Chapter 19

When Kurt and Rachel got to Mercedes's apartment, the party was already in full swing, even though they were only 15 minutes late. An already tipsy Mercedes greeted them at the door, pulling each of them in and planting slightly sloppy kisses on their cheeks. "You came!" she yelled happily. "Awesome! You're just in time! Sam's setting up the karaoke machine right now!"

She dragged them through the apartment, talking happily the whole time. "I know you probably think I'm silly, having karaoke at my birthday party when I have to deal with it all the time at work, but my friends are all talented, so it's going to be great. Especially now that you two are here. You have to promise me you'll perform. I know it's not Friday night at Warblers, but…" She stopped abruptly as they reached the back corner of the crowded living room, where a blonde-haired man was squatting, hooking up some speakers. "Rachel, Kurt, this is Sam, my boyfriend."

Sam turned and stood. As he caught sight of Kurt, his smile broadened, though Kurt couldn't understand why. "Hey, nice to meet you both," he said, extending a hand. Then he dropped his arm around Mercedes, who had stepped up next to him. "Glad you could make it."

"Thanks for inviting us! Your apartment is amazing!" Rachel gushed.

Kurt nodded in agreement as he surveyed the room. It was quite spacious for a New York City apartment. The living area where they were was open and minimally furnished. Along the back wall, opposite the front door where they had come in, two sliding glass doors divided the wall into thirds and led to a balcony. A built-in shelving unit took up the wall on the other side of the room, in front of which stood a small bar where Santana was clearly in her element, mixing drinks. Halfway down that wall, another wall jutted out; through the open archway Kurt could tell it was the kitchen. To the right of the door, about halfway down the wall behind Kurt, a hallway led off to the rest of the apartment.

Mercedes was excitedly talking about the apartment and assuring them she'd give them a tour later when Kurt saw a familiar head of black hair emerge from the hallway, lugging the remainder of the karaoke equipment.

"Rachel, tell me I'm hallucinating," Kurt hissed quietly as Mercedes's attention was snagged by another guest and Sam went back to assembling the karaoke equipment.

"What?" Rachel turned toward him.

Kurt pulled her behind another group of guests to hide a little and then pointed toward Blaine. "Tell me that's not who I think it is."

Instead of sharing his horror, Rachel smiled. "Nightbirdsong! Your duet partner! Oh, this is wonderful! Come on, let's go talk to him!"

Kurt yanked her arm, tugging her back out of sight. "Have you lost your mind? I can't go talk to him!"

Rachel sighed in frustration. "I still don't understand the big deal. You sang a beautiful duet with the man. You act like he caught you singing off-key and naked in the middle of Central Park or something."

Kurt ignored her and shifted slightly to stay out of Blaine's line of sight as Blaine reached the corner and shifted the equipment into place. Rachel made an annoyed noise with her tongue. "Is this your brilliant plan? Spend the entire party hiding behind other people?"

Blaine crouched down to plug something in, and Kurt darted across the room and placed himself so there were several large groups, as well as potted plant, between him and Blaine. "It's working, isn't it?" he replied to Rachel.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "I'm going to get a drink," she announced as she stepped away.

"Wait! Can you get me one?" Kurt begged.

Rachel glared at him and shook her head. "Get your own."

Kurt groaned and made to follow her, but Blaine turned around, forcing Kurt back into his hiding place behind the potted plant. "Fine. I will," he mumbled to himself. "I don't need her."

Forty minutes later, Kurt was still edging his way toward the bar, but he had successfully managed to avoid being spotted by Blaine. Of course, he had drawn quite a few suspicious and confused look from a few other party guests when he'd suddenly gasped and ducked behind them, but really, if Blaine would just stand still, it wouldn't be so difficult.

Luckily, the karaoke managed to distract most people, so Kurt's suspicious behavior was going mostly unnoticed. Mercedes had opened with a powerful rendition of "Respect" by Aretha Franklin, and since then, there had been a steady stream of decent performances. Mercedes had been right – most of her friends were at least moderately talented, making this immensely less painful than listening to some of the drunker acts at Warblers. Santana's girlfriend Dani, who Kurt had met a few times in the past few years, did an amusingly sassy performance of "That Don't Impress Me Much" by Shania Twain, and Kurt could see Rachel hovering near the karaoke set-up, clearly waiting for her turn to wow everyone.

Kurt was lurking by the kitchen door when Rachel made her way to the microphone. Since they had just gone to Warblers last night, he wasn't surprised she had chosen a different song tonight. As she began to sing "I Feel Pretty," Blaine's head whirled in her direction. He seemed intensely focused on her performance, so Kurt took the opportunity to quickly glide across the room to the bar.

Santana quirked an eyebrow in surprise when he suddenly appeared in front of her. "Where the hell have you been all night?"

"Oh, you know, just around," he hedged, hoping the magical perceptive bartender power she claimed to have didn't extend to him.

He hoped in vain. "Hiding from a certain pocket-sized singing sensation is more like it," she muttered.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about," Kurt said quickly.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh?" She cupped her hands around her mouth. "Hey, Bl—"

Kurt reached out and slammed his hand over hers, muffling the rest of her shout. He jerked back suddenly when he felt wetness against his palm. "Did you just lick me?" he asked in disgusted horror. "What are you, 5?"

Santana didn't look the least bit ashamed. "Next time I cut your hand off at the wrist. Better?"

Kurt leaned over and grabbed a stack of napkins. "Any chance you have antibacterial lotion back there?"

"Nope. Don't worry, I'm not diseased," she said casually, with a shrug that did nothing to ease Kurt's worry. "Now, about that man candy you are not hiding from…"

"Santana, no. I don't even know why he's here, but you can't do anything about it."

Santana gave him a look of challenge. "Oh yeah?"

Just as he was about to protest, Mercedes slid up next to him, drunker than the last time he had seen her. Kurt sighed in relief. Mercedes would be a great distraction, and he could use her as a cover to slip away from Santana back to safety. "Hey, baby!" she shouted, hugging him as if she hadn't seen him in months. "Isn't this party great?"

"The best," he agreed.

She leaned on him and sighed in contentment, before suddenly pulling back. "Hey. How come you haven't sung yet?"

Kurt's eyes widened in panic. "Oh, well, I sang last night, and I don't want to strain my voice…"

Her face drew down into an exaggerated pout. "But it's my birthday!"

Kurt thought quickly. "That's why you should perform again! I bet Rachel would duet with you."

Mercedes wasn't drunk enough to be that easily distracted. "Nuh-uh. You have to perform. It's my birthday, and I say you have to."

Kurt bit his lower lip and scrambled for an excuse not to. Santana leaned across the bar, and Kurt mistakenly thought she was about to help him out. "You know what would be great?" Santana whispered loudly. "Another duet." She looked pointedly across the room at Blaine, who seemed to be looking around the room for someone.

Mercedes leaned over and kissed Santana on the cheek. "That's a fabulous idea! Come on!" She grabbed Kurt's hand and started dragging him across the room toward the last person Kurt wanted to see.


	20. Chapter 20

Blaine had been chatting with some of Sam's modeling friends when he heard a familiar voice singing "I Feel Pretty." He whirled around and immediately recognized the girl who always accompanied Kurt to Warblers. Completely forgetting about the conversation he had been having, he immediately started scanning the crowd looking for Kurt. How had he not known Kurt was here? He hadn't been watching the door, nor had he even thought that Kurt might be here, but somehow it seemed he should have known he had been in the same room with Kurt for almost an hour. The party wasn't that big – surely he would have seen Kurt if Kurt were here.

When he had successfully ruled out Kurt's presence in front of him, he turned and started scanning to his left. He rotated in a counterclockwise direction, quickly searching each cluster of guests for that familiar chestnut-colored hair. He had almost made a full circle when he saw Mercedes making her way through the crowd straight toward him… with Kurt in tow.

Blaine barely had time to register the shock of Kurt's presence before Mercedes was standing directly in front of him. "Blaine! Blaine, Blaine, Blaine, I have the best idea! Well, Santana had the best idea."

Kurt was standing behind her, a flush creeping up his cheeks as he tried subtly edging away without making eye contact, but Mercedes tugged on his hand and brought him to her side. Kurt's amazing blue eyes shifted to lock with Blaine's before darting quickly away, and Blaine watched as the blush intensified.

Completely oblivious to the tension, Mercedes continued talking. "You remember Kurt, right?"

Blaine nodded and tried to play it cool. "Nice to see you again."

Kurt mumbled a garbled sound that might have been acknowledgement, but Blaine really couldn't tell.

"So I was thinking, I know you don't really like performing in public because of your past…" Mercedes barreled on, her moderate inebriation loosening her tongue. Blaine could feel his face warming and was thankful he didn't blush as easily as Kurt, or they'd be matching shades of tomato red right now. "…but you did such an awesome job at Warblers and this is a smaller crowd so you can probably handle it, right? And you and Kurt were so good last time…"

Mercedes was smiling at him hopefully, and Blaine took a deep breath to clear his thoughts. "You want Kurt and I to duet again?" he asked to buy some time. He knew that's what she wanted, but if Kurt's face was anything to go by, they could both use a little time to process.

Mercedes nodded. "You two are the most adorable duet partners ever, and it was so great."

Kurt's eyes met Blaine's again, and he seemed to be pleading for a way to say no. Blaine scrambled to think of something.

"It would be a really great birthday present," Mercedes added, clearly not above laying on the guilt a little.

"Why don't I just sing you something myself?" Blaine offered. Not that he was sure he would be able to perform solo without panicking, but considering how desperate Kurt seemed to be to avoid a duet, it was worth a shot.

Mercedes shook her head. "You can do that too, but I want a duet. Please?" she begged. "For my birthday?"

Blaine really didn't know how to say no to that. He opened his mouth to say something, when Kurt's voice interrupted him. "Well, how can we say no to that?" he teased, and Blaine was amazed at how steady and normal and confident Kurt's voice sounded considering the panic lingering in his eyes.

Mercedes clapped. "You two are the best! This is going to be so great!" She started to turn away, when something seemed to occur to her. "Can I ask one more favor?"

Blaine looked over at Kurt, who shrugged. "Sure," Blaine answered hesitantly.

"Could you do 'A Whole New World'?"

Kurt frowned. "I thought you hated that song."

Mercedes shook her head. "I hate that people are always destroying that song at karaoke. But it's my favorite romantic duet, and if a really talented pair of singers did it, maybe I could stop shuddering every time I hear it." Then she laughed. "Never mind. That's silly. You're going to do a duet for me. That should be enough."

Kurt glanced at Blaine in question, and Blaine nodded. "We'll do it," Kurt said, maintaining eye contact with Blaine.

Mercedes squealed in glee. "Seriously? Oh my gosh, you guys are the greatest! This is going to be awesome!" She dashed toward the front of the room, where someone Blaine didn't recognize was finishing up a performance. Blaine and Kurt followed in her wake.

From beside Blaine, Kurt muttered something that sounded like, "This is so embarrassing," but Mercedes had already taken over the microphone, so Blaine didn't have time to question it. All he could do was turn toward Kurt and quickly ask, "Jasmine?" Kurt nodded just in time, for Mercedes was shoving microphones at them and the music was starting.

Blaine was so overwhelmed at the speed with which things had just happened, stage fright was the least of his concerns. A minute ago, he hadn't even known Kurt was here, and now here they were, about to perform another duet. Blaine was just thankful Mercedes had picked such a popular Disney song and not something more obscure.

The intro was short, so Blaine didn't have much time to get into the spirit before he found himself singing, "I can show you the world, shining, shimmering, splendid…"

Just like last time, though, he found that by focusing on Kurt, the rest of the world disappeared. Blaine was totally absorbed in his performance, completely in the moment in a way he only ever could be on stage. When Kurt joined in and started to sing, Blaine felt as if he had stepped onto a magic carpet ride and was floating away into a world for just the two of them.

Unfortunately, this song was much shorter than their first duet, and it was over much too quickly for Blaine's liking. This time the post-performance spell was broken not by the applause of the crowd, though there was some clapping, but by Mercedes throwing her arms around both of them in a giant hug. "That was the best present ever! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

She was practically vibrating in happiness and excitement, and Blaine couldn't help but laugh at her glee. Then she released them with another whispered "thank you" and dashed across the room to greet a few new guests, and Blaine was struck with a feeling of déjà vu. Once again, he and Kurt had performed an amazing duet, and once again, Kurt looked like he was desperately plotting an exit strategy.


	21. Chapter 21

Kurt couldn't believe how spectacularly his plan had failed. Instead of avoiding Blaine completely and hiding until he had spent sufficient time at the party to be polite before saying goodbye, he was standing across from Blaine at the front of the room, performing another duet.

The whole time Mercedes had been talking to Blaine, Kurt had been studiously avoiding Blaine's eyes and trying to figure out what Blaine was doing here. Over the years he and Rachel had been going to Warblers, they'd met a lot of Mercedes's friends, and he'd never seen Blaine before The Humiliation. Then again, tonight was the first night Kurt had met Mercedes's boyfriend, and she'd been with him since high school, so obviously he hadn't met everyone in her life. But he'd at least _heard _of her boyfriend before. Mercedes had never even _mentioned _Blaine.

That distraction during their conversation was probably the reason he was stuck performing the sequel to The Humiliation. If he had been focusing, Kurt probably could have figured out a way to maneuver out of it. As it was, he had been helpless to say no when Mercedes had pouted and reminded them it was her birthday. Now he was trapped here, singing one of the best Disney love songs of all time, with a man who looked and sang as if he had just stepped out of a Disney movie himself.

If Kurt thought their last duet's preparation was rushed, this one was even more so. All they'd had time to do was confirm that Kurt was taking the part of Jasmine before the music had started. Kurt didn't envy Blaine; at least Kurt had the first verse to pull himself together mentally. Blaine just had to go, but Kurt would never have known it from the smooth perfection of Blaine's voice. Blaine sang like it was a natural movement, like belting out Disney love duets on a moment's notice was no harder than breathing. Even though Kurt knew what to expect this time, part of him was still completely in awe of Blaine's voice. Kurt felt that same fluttering sensation he got whenever he watched Blaine's Youtube videos, like his soul was jumping around in recognition.

_And wasn't that just silly hopeless romantic drivel? _Kurt thought to himself.

Blaine was hitting the chorus now, and Kurt refocused on the song and Blaine. By the time it was his cue, Kurt had channeled the little boy within, the one who had watched all the princess movies over and over and wished one day he could have his own Prince Charming.

Just like last time, Kurt was amazed by how effortlessly he and Blaine's voices blended, as if they had done this song a million times before rather than a spontaneous first-time performance. And just like last time, Kurt's first thought when they finished singing and Mercedes had wrapped them in a huge hug was escape.

Unfortunately, escape was much more difficult here. Even though Mercedes had quickly moved on to greet other friends, Kurt couldn't exactly bolt out of Mercedes's birthday party the way he had out of Warblers last month. While the apartment was rather large and there were a lot of people, there weren't so many people or so much space that he could disappear into the crowd without Blaine noticing.

Kurt was desperately scanning the room for Rachel, hoping he could catch her eye and get her to provide him some cover to escape, when Blaine spoke from beside him. "I bet the curtains could be used as a makeshift parachute. Even if those failed, we're only on the 11th floor. You could probably survive a free-fall."

Kurt turned toward Blaine in confusion. "What?"

Blaine's eyes were twinkling with amusement. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt your process." He pursed his lips in thought. "You could just go classic. Make it a full-on Disney night and just go for the pre-midnight dash. And then I'd get to hold on to one of those gorgeous shoes and admire it."

"What about my shoes?" Confused, Kurt looked down at his printed leather Alexander McQueen slippers, purchased for a steal thanks to his fabulous Vogue connections.

Blaine smiled nervously. "Never mind. Forget it. It was a bad Cinderella joke."

Kurt replayed the conversation in his head, but he still felt like he was missing something. "Why were you making a Cinderella joke?"

"Because you're looking for a way to run away again, and I get uncomfortable when people are silently searching for escape routes to get out of my presence, so I make jokes about it," Blaine admitted with a shrug.

Kurt had been scanning the room again, but his eyes snapped back to Blaine. "Run away again?" he questioned. "When did I run away before?"

Blaine barked out a laugh. "You're kidding, right?" Kurt just stared at him, all wide-eyed innocence and confusion. "Last time we sang a duet, you ran away as fast as your legs could carry you."

Kurt was already shaking his head before Blaine could finish. "No, I wasn't running away, I just had to leave…"

"In such a hurry that the Flash couldn't have kept up?" Blaine teased.

"The Flash?" Kurt repeated, looking confused.

"Not a comic book person, I take it," Blaine noted.

Kurt scrunched his nose in disgust. "Please. I get they're superheroes and everything, saving the world or whatever, but would it kill them to be a little more creative with their color palettes on their uniforms?"

Blaine threw his head back and laughed, a genuine laugh that sent tingles through Kurt's body and had him forgetting all about his intentions of escaping.

"I'm serious," Kurt argued. "It's like they all stumbled into the same primary colors-only surplus store."

Blaine grinned. "Green Lantern doesn't wear primary colors."

"I'm not sure that dressing exclusively in what I assume is a very basic and boring green all the time is much better," Kurt replied. "I mean, what's wrong with a nice sage?"

Blaine was laughing again. "Somehow I don't think a superhero in pastels would be very intimidating."

"He'd stand out from the crowd! It would be a bold fashion statement, and bold fashion statements are always intimidating," Kurt argued.

Blaine chuckled in amusement and ran his gaze down Kurt's outfit. "Somehow I'm not surprised you think so."

"Is that supposed to be an insult? Because if so, I'd like to point out that you are wearing a bow tie with… oh my God, are those little fireworks?" Kurt's tone was horrified, rather than impressed.

"It's festive!" Blaine replied defensively, self-consciously reaching up to straighten it.

Kurt eyed it distastefully. "That is no excuse."

Blaine shook his head in disappointment. "You have no holiday spirit."

"Okay, first of all, holiday spirit is only a thing for real holidays, like Christmas. Second of all, the only way that bow tie would put me in the 'holiday spirit,'" Kurt paused to make air quotes around the words, "is if it exploded like a firework and disappeared forever."

Blaine clamped a hand over it protectively. "You have no holiday spirit," he repeated emphatically. Then he tilted his chin to coo quietly, "It's okay, little buddy. He has no taste. Don't listen to him."

Kurt wanted to just glare Blaine into shame, but he couldn't keep a short laugh from escaping. At the sound of Kurt's laugh, Blaine's face broke out into a wide grin, like he had just discovered the secret to the universe, and Kurt wondered if maybe he had too.

_[Author note: Okay, that was kind of a cheesy ending to the chapter, but the only reason this chapter is posting today and not two days ago is because I've been stuck mid-dialogue since the last chapter posted, so I'm just happy to finally have something to post!]_


	22. Chapter 22

When Blaine got home later, he was going to build a shrine to his comic books. Who would have ever guessed that a casual reference to The Flash would lead to actual conversation with Kurt?

Blaine had lost track of how long they'd been talking. The conversation about superheroes and bow ties had transitioned into a slightly more serious, but still amusing, conversation about fashion trends. Kurt was significantly more knowledgeable than Blaine, though, and Blaine finally admitted such when Kurt started discussing the most recent line of a designer Blaine had barely heard of.

"I just wrote a great article on him for the Vogue website," Kurt said. "You should read it."

Blaine looked at him in outrage. "Wait a second. This whole time, you've been hiding the fact that you work for Vogue? I think you cheated."

Kurt made a dismissive noise. "How is being knowledgeable about a conversational topic cheating?"

"It's like planting the Manning brothers in a casual backyard barbecue conversation about the upcoming season," Blaine explained. When Kurt just stared at him blankly, Blaine added, "They're professional football players."

Kurt shrugged. "I don't really watch a lot of football. I used to go to games a lot in high school, though. It was a great opportunity to show off my scarf collection."

Blaine rolled his eyes and gave a short laugh. "Sitting through a football game seems like a lot of effort for just a scarf."

Kurt looked offended. "Just a scarf?" he repeated. "Wow. I don't know if I can continue to talk to someone who doesn't appreciate scarves." He started to turn as if he was going to leave.

"Wait, no!" Blaine protested, though he was pretty sure Kurt was joking. "I appreciate scarves. I do. A lot." He could still vividly picture Kurt's outfit the second time Blaine had seen him perform at Warblers, the gorgeous black and red silk scarf flowing over that white button-down shirt, so he repeated emphatically, "I love scarves."

Kurt narrowed his eyes. "I don't think I believe you. After all, you wore that thing." He gestured to Blaine's bow tie. "That doesn't suggest very good taste."

Blaine touched the bow tie again. "Leave my poor bow tie alone. It has nothing to do with this."

"It should have nothing to do with anything. It should be sitting in some surplus warehouse, waiting to be destroyed," Kurt replied.

Blaine shook his head. "It's adorable, and you know it."

Kurt hesitated for a moment, pursing his lips as if considering something. He looked straight into Blaine's eyes as he finally replied, "Maybe a little," with a small flirtatious smile, before he flushed and looked away in embarrassment.

Blaine could feel his own skin starting to heat, because he knew Kurt wasn't talking about his bow tie anymore. Kurt was still looking away, evidently fascinated by something on the wall. "Courage," Blaine thought to himself. He took a deep breath and said, "You're more than a little adorable."

Kurt's eyes shot back to Blaine's face, and the blush intensified, which just made Kurt more adorable. Kurt seemed to be at a loss for words, if the way he opened his mouth a few times without speaking was any indication. He cleared his throat and pulled at the collar of his shirt, then stammered, "It's so hot in this room, isn't it? I'm going to go get a drink. Do you want anything?"

"Why don't I come with you?" Blaine offered.

"Oh, um… yeah, okay. Let's go." Since Kurt was closer to the bar, he turned and led the way.

Santana spotted them immediately. Without even asking what they wanted, she just started making them drinks. "Well, well, well. Fun-Size and Cullen finally found each other at last." She reached under the bar to grab something as she continued talking. "I haven't seen you boys since your duet, and Hummel looks awfully red, so I guess congratulations are in order." She leaned toward Kurt. "Please tell me at least that part of him is big."

"Santana!" Kurt gasped. Blaine hadn't thought it was possible, but Kurt turned even redder.

"Please, Hummel, we all know you've had sex, so spare me the blushing virgin act."

"Oh my God, Santana, we didn't have sex! We were just talking!" Kurt hissed.

"I wasn't talking about with him, though really, what's your excuse? Mercedes and Sam wouldn't notice, and their bed is really comfortable." Blaine almost interrupted to ask how she knew that, then thought better of it. Santana continued, "You dated that British hottie for like a decade. I know you two were going at it. I mean, there was that one time at the bar when I didn't feel like waiting for the ladies' room and I discovered…"

"SANTANA!" Kurt shouted again.

Santana poured some more alcohol into their drinks and slid them forward. "What? I'm sure Fun-Size here has had plenty of hot sex in naughty places too. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Kurt hastily grabbed the drinks, shoving one into Blaine's hands. "I swear to God, Santana, sometimes I just want to…" he muttered as he turned and began walking toward the open doors to the balcony. Blaine followed him, mostly on auto-pilot while he tried to process the exchange that had just taken place.

"You love me!" she shouted to their retreating backs. In reply, Kurt held up his middle finger over his shoulder, not even bothering to pause.

Kurt kept walking until they had reached a quiet corner of the balcony. After gulping down half the drink Santana had made, he finally turned and faced Blaine. "I am so sorry about that. Santana is… um… well, there's really no way to describe Santana. I would say inappropriate and offensive, but even that doesn't do her justice."

"I'm beginning to see that," Blaine agreed. He took a sip of his drink, then choked when it was significantly stronger than he expected. "What the hell is this?"

Kurt shrugged. "I don't usually ask questions. If you ask, then she starts to get offended because you're challenging her expertise and not trusting her, and in retaliation she starts lashing out. If you think Santana is bad now, wait until you see her going for revenge."

Blaine shuddered. "I cannot even imagine. I'm already terrified of her, and other than that just now, the only interaction we had was like 30 seconds before the party while she was setting up. I'm still not even sure what happened, but I know I've never been filled with such a sense of dread."

"Sounds like Santana," Kurt agreed. He took another small sip of his drink, followed by few deep breaths, as if he were still trying to recover from their encounter with Santana. "Why were you here before the party?" he finally asked.

"Sam… you met Sam, right?" Kurt nodded. "Sam's one of my best friends, and he asked me to come over and help him set up."

"Ah," Kurt said in understanding. "That explains why you've been stalking me."

Blaine's eyes widened in horror. Internally, he was panicking. Somehow Kurt must have noticed him at the bar those few weeks and realized Blaine was only coming to watch him sing, and _oh God, Kurt must think he was so creepy and weird!_

Kurt let out a short laugh. "I'm kidding. It's not like you knew I was going to be here tonight, right?"

Blaine shook his head, smiling in relief. "Maybe you're stalking me," he teased back.

Kurt's eyes shifted away from his for a minute as if he was uncomfortable. Before Blaine could figure out why, Kurt scoffed. "Please. Don't flatter yourself. I didn't even know why you were here until 10 seconds ago."

"Maybe that's just what you want me to think."

Kurt rolled his eyes, and Blaine laughed. They stood side-by-side in silence for a few minutes, looking out over the courtyard between the buildings in the complex. Blaine was slowly replaying the conversation with Santana in his mind. He had so many questions, but he chose to ask the one that seemed the safest and least likely to upset Kurt. "Why does she call me Fun-Size?" he wondered aloud.

Kurt didn't need clarification. "Santana has all sorts of ridiculous nicknames for people, and most of them barely make any sense. She calls Mercedes 'Wheezy' just because she says Mercedes reminds her of the wife from 'The Jeffersons,' you know, that old sitcom? She calls me 'Cullen' because she says my skin is so pale it practically sparkles like, and I quote, 'those silly fake vampires from those trashy novels about that boring girl.'"

"But there are at least reasons?" Blaine confirmed.

"Ridiculous ones, but yes."

"So again, why does she call me Fun-Size?"

Kurt bit his lower lip, glancing over at Blaine. "I'm not sure how to say this delicately…"

"Just say it," Blaine said. "I'm not going to get mad at you."

Kurt turned back to look out at the courtyard. "It's because she thinks you're short, like a fun-sized candy bar."

Blaine considered that for a minute. "I think I'm okay with that."

Kurt raised an eyebrow in surprise. "You are?"

"Given the infinite possibilities, she could have chosen something significantly more embarrassing. I can handle Fun-Size."

"You better hope she never hears you say that, or she'll change it immediately."

Blaine gave Kurt a charming smile. "I hope I can trust you, then."

Kurt mimed zipping his lips and locking them, and Blaine fixated on Kurt's mouth. Blaine felt an overwhelming urge to lean forward and just press his lips against Kurt's, to feel the softness against his own mouth, to slip his tongue in and taste Kurt…

Blaine blinked rapidly to clear his thoughts. Kurt was giving him a slightly inquisitive look over the rim of his glass, and Blaine scrambled to come up with something to say.

Luckily, Mercedes appeared on the balcony, leaning heavily on a much more sober Sam. "Sparkler time!" she yelled happily, waving the sticks in the air. She made her way around the balcony, handing them out to the guests who were out there. "Sam wanted to do fireworks, but obviously that wouldn't be safe on the balcony," she confided in a loud whisper to Kurt and Blaine as she handed them each a sparkler.

A few more people came out onto the balcony, most likely drawn out by the promise of sparklers, and Mercedes tripped back to the doors to pass out the sparklers until she only had two left. Then she started patting herself down as if searching for something, even though her dress had no pockets. "Sam, where are my matches?"

Sam shifted her slightly so he could reach into his pocket and pulled out a box of matches. Mercedes reached for them, but Sam moved them quickly out of reach. "Hey! I gotta light everyone's sparklers!" Mercedes slurred.

"Why don't you take a seat," Sam suggested, navigating her toward a chair against the wall, "and I'll do it?"

Mercedes smiled happily. "You're the bestest boyfriend ever."

Sam eased her into the chair and quickly kissed the crown of her head. Then he pulled out a match and struck it, lighting Mercedes's sparkler. "Oooo, pretty!" she cooed, waving it through the air.

Sam quickly made his way around the balcony, trying to light everyone's. Blaine set his drink on the balcony railing and stepped forward to help, grabbing a few matches and lighting people on the side of the balcony where he and Kurt had been standing. He saved his and Kurt's for last. After lighting his own, he touched it to Kurt's. Now that the balcony was more crowded, he and Kurt had ended up closer together.

"Thanks," Kurt murmured as his sparkler lit up.

"My pleasure," Blaine replied softly, gazing into Kurt's eyes. It felt like a magical moment – standing close together, surrounded by people yet secluded in their own corner, everyone's sparklers giving off twinkling light… and Kurt seemed to be leaning closer…

Blaine suddenly felt a tickle near his throat. He looked down and found Kurt's fingers inches away from his neck. "Hey!" he protested.

"Damn. So close," Kurt mumbled under his breath as he lowered his hand.

"What were you doing?" Blaine asked.

"This seemed like the perfect opportunity to destroy that hideous thing," Kurt said, gesturing once again to the bow tie. "Just grab it, hold it to my sparkler, and watch it go up in flames like it deserves."

"And what, kill me in the process?"

"No! That's why I didn't just hold my sparkler to your throat. I didn't want to burn your neck."

"So instead you thought you'd strangle me by yanking off my bow tie?"

"It's not a clip-on?" Kurt asked.

"Of course not!" Blaine replied, almost offended. "I told you, I have taste, Kurt."

"Let's not go too far," Kurt retorted. "But I am both impressed and disappointed that something so hideous isn't just a clip-on."

"I can't believe you were trying to destroy my bow tie. You are so oddly obsessed with it. Here I thought you were…" Blaine abruptly cut himself off. Clearly Santana's strong drink had gone to his head faster than he thought, even though he'd only had a few sips. He was losing his filter.

"You thought what?" Kurt asked.

"Nothing. Never mind," Blaine said. He looked over at their sparklers, which had fizzled out. "Looks like the sparklers are dead. Want me to go get rid of them?"

Kurt gave Blaine a slightly calculating look, then muttered what sounded like, "Courage," under his breath. Before Blaine could move, Kurt surged forward and pressed a soft kiss against Blaine's lips. It was quick and light, but Blaine still felt like his heart had exploded.

Blaine was so shocked by the unexpected kiss, he froze when Kurt pulled back. Kurt apparently misinterpreted that as disapproval, because he shuffled back further. "Sorry. Santana's drink was really strong, and it kind of lowered my inhibitions and clearly also ruined my judgment and my ability to read social cues and…"

Blaine shook his head slightly to try to cut off Kurt's rambling apology, but when that didn't work, he lifted his empty hand, cupped Kurt's jaw, and leaned forward to kiss Kurt. He caught Kurt mid-word, so Kurt's mouth was slightly open. Blaine was sorely tempted to slip his tongue into Kurt's mouth, but didn't want to push it. Instead, he kept the kiss soft and gentle, lingering a little when he pulled back.

"Oh," Kurt breathed quietly, lifting a hand to his mouth and lightly touching his lips with his fingers. He looked as dazed and stunned as Blaine felt.

To give them both a little time to process, Blaine reached out his hand and gently disentangled Kurt's sparkler from his fingers. "I'm going to go get rid of these, and then I'll be back. Okay?"

Kurt nodded.

Blaine carried the sparklers over to the balcony door, where Sam had set out a bucket with sand for the used sparklers. After taking a deep breath, he turned back toward Kurt, who still looked a little lost and surprised. Blaine couldn't blame him – he was pretty sure he looked the same way. It had only been two relatively chaste kisses. Neither had lasted very long. They shouldn't have had such an impact on him. But they had. From Blaine's perspective, the only thing to do was explore this… thing… between them, whatever it was. Blaine just hoped that Kurt would agree and wouldn't suddenly choose this moment to remember his desire to escape.

_[Author note: This took a lot longer than previous updates because I really wasn't sure where I wanted this chapter to go. Then I thought I figured it out and started writing, and it ended up going a completely different way than I expected, but I think I'm okay with that. I think at least some of you will be too :) As always, thanks for reading/following/leaving feedback! I'll try to get the next chapter out more quickly than this one.]_


	23. Chapter 23

Kurt pressed his fingertips to his tingling lips. He had kissed Blaine. Blaine had kissed him. He knew he should be trying to figure out what this meant, what to do about it, what to say, but all he kept thinking was _Wow. _Kurt had kissed people before, and never once had he felt this overwhelmed by something that barely ranked above a peck. Yet here he was, with his heart racing like he'd run a marathon at a sprinter's pace, his body revving like the old classic cars his dad sometimes restored.

Kurt appreciated that Blaine had offered to dispose of the sparklers, because Kurt wasn't sure he was capable of moving at this exact second. Santana's drink had been strong, but kissing Blaine had been far more intoxicating. While Blaine made his way across the balcony, Kurt focused on taking deep, calming breaths. He needed to cool down a little, or he'd make the mistake of throwing himself at Blaine the second Blaine returned, and Kurt knew that was a horrible idea.

Blaine was on his way back, and Kurt couldn't help but stare. Blaine was quite possibly the most attractive person Kurt had ever met in real life. Even that silly bow tie Kurt kept teasing him about just added a cute touch to Blaine's classically good looks… not that Kurt would ever admit it. Kurt admired him as he walked across the balcony, his confident stride projecting comfort in his body, which Kurt found so hot. Kurt found everything about Blaine so hot. _And I just kissed him_, Kurt's brain sighed in contentment.

Though Blaine's stride was confident, his face was unsure when he reached Kurt. "Hi," he said hesitantly, a tentative smile on his face.

"Hi," Kurt replied a little breathily, because even with all that deep breathing, he hadn't quite recovered yet. He smiled warmly, and Blaine's tension eased and his smile broadened.

Kurt knew they probably looked ridiculous, just standing there goofily grinning at each other, but Kurt didn't want to break the spell. He would have been quite happy to stand there smiling at Blaine all night, but sadly reality intruded in the form of a drunken Rachel.

"Kuuuuuurt," she sang as she stumbled across the balcony. "I found you!"

She tripped into his side, and Kurt wrapped an arm around her shoulders to steady her. "Hi, Rachel."

"We haven't sang a duet yet," she whined. "We should…" She broke off abruptly when she noticed Blaine, and her jaw dropped.

To try to prevent Rachel from blurting out something embarrassing, Kurt immediately jumped into introductions. "Blaine, this is my friend and roommate Rachel. Rachel, this is…"

"Nightbirdsong! Your Youtube obsession! Oh my God, you have no idea how much Kurt loves you, like, it's probably not even healthy how obsessed he gets…" Kurt's hand clamped over Rachel's mouth, but it was too little, too late. She had already said too much.

Blaine's face froze in what looked like horror, and Kurt wanted to evaporate. If the balcony were to suddenly break into pieces and Kurt fell through a black hole into another dimension, that really wouldn't be so bad. So much for warm, fluffy, post-kiss grinning.

Rachel was still trying to speak even with Kurt's hand over her mouth, but between her drunken slurring and the hand, it was just an indistinguishable mumble. Blaine was still wide-eyed with shock. Kurt desperately tried to find words that would make this whole situation less creepy, but his brain was still fuzzy with alcohol and hormones, so nothing came to him. It seemed like there was only one thing to do.

"I should probably be getting her home," Kurt said quickly, tilting his head toward Rachel. "It was great to see you again. Thanks for the duet… and um… you know. Anyway. Have a nice night." Kurt started moving as quickly as his legs would carry him toward the apartment, practically dragging Rachel with him.

Kurt knew it wasn't really polite to disappear from Mercedes's party without saying goodbye, but he couldn't wait around to find her. Hopefully she was drunk enough that she wouldn't notice, and he could text her in the morning anyway.

Kurt continued hustling Rachel to the door. Somewhere behind him, he thought he heard someone calling his name, but he didn't want to stop and find out. He navigated them out the door and to the elevator, which thankfully came quickly. Once out on the street, he hailed a cab; between Rachel's inebriation and Kurt's need to get away quickly, the extra expense was worth it tonight. It was only when they were settled in the back of the cab that Kurt finally relaxed a little.

"This seems familiar," Rachel observed, resting her head against the back of the seat.

"What?" Kurt asked distractedly, mentally calculating how far away he could get with the meager savings in his bank account and idly wondering how expensive a trip to Antarctica would be.

"You running from Blaine. It's like déjà vu." Then Rachel giggled. "Déjà vu. That's such a funny word." She repeated it again, dragging out the vowel sounds.

"Well, if you hadn't humiliated me, I wouldn't have had to run."

Rachel gasped. "Me? What did I do?"

"You told Blaine I knew about his Youtube channel!" Kurt accused.

Rachel shrugged. "So?"

"You told him I was obsessed with him!"

"Because it's true!" Rachel replied. When Kurt opened his mouth to disagree, Rachel cut him off. "You can't handle the truth!" Then she laughed and repeated, "You can't handle the truth!" again in a deeper voice and launched into the monologue from _A Few Good Men_, which she had watched repeatedly a month ago to prep for an audition.

Kurt sighed and turned to look out the window. There was no use arguing with Rachel when she was this drunk. Instead, he went back to contemplating how to disappear. He wondered if NASA was accepting applications for astronauts to Mars.


	24. Chapter 24

Even though it was nearing on 4 AM by the time Blaine got home, he knew he wasn't going to sleep yet. He couldn't believe he'd let Kurt run away again. Blaine had spent the rest of the night kicking himself for freezing like that. He'd just never met _anyone _who had seen his Youtube channel and figured out who he was, so the fact that not only was there someone who had, but also that that someone was _Kurt_ had completely blindsided him. By the time he'd snapped out of it, Kurt had already been halfway out the door. Blaine had intended to catch up with him in the hall, but just as he'd reached the door, a party guest had started vomiting. Sam had been too busy keeping an eye on the still-very-drunk Mercedes, so while Dani had appeared quickly to escort the poor guy to the restroom, Blaine had headed for the cleaning supplies. Kurt had been long gone by the time Blaine had finished.

The party had started to break up shortly after that, and the last guest had left a little after 2. Sam had vanished down the hall with Mercedes to help get her ready for bed. He'd told Blaine not to worry about the mess, but Blaine hadn't wanted to leave Sam alone with it. Since Santana had stayed to pack up her bar supplies, Dani had also offered to help. Blaine had given her the box of trash bags, and she worked her way around the apartment, picking up discarded cups and napkins. Blaine had worked on clearing off the snack table and wiping down surfaces, avoiding Santana as much as possible, who had been making him nervous by repeatedly glancing at him and muttering in Spanish.

Even with the three of them, plus Sam when he had reemerged from the bedroom, it had taken nearly an hour to bag up all the trash and get everything put away. By the time Blaine had helped Sam carry all the garbage down to the trash room and store the karaoke machine, it had been close to 3:30. Luckily it hadn't taken him too long to catch a cab, but the ride across town had been long. During the trip home, Blaine had finally allowed himself to think about Kurt. He wished Rachel had stumbled by a little later, after they'd exchanged numbers. At least then he would have some way of contacting Kurt to apologize. If Mercedes hadn't been so drunk, Blaine might have asked her for Kurt's number. Instead, he was left exactly where he had been a month ago, completely shaken and completely alone.

Blaine wandered through his apartment, trying to figure out how to work off some of his restless energy. There was one obvious answer, to both his current problems: a Youtube video. It would let him burn off some steam and also hopefully send a message to Kurt.

Without really thinking about it, he sat down at his keyboard and started playing random melodies, trying to decide on the perfect song. Blaine wanted something that would capture his feelings without being overly cheesy or coming on too strong. He mentally searched through his repertoire, but came up blank. Nothing quite captured the feeling Blaine wanted to share.

Sighing, Blaine walked away from the keyboard and started surfing through his music collection on his laptop. When nothing jumped out at him, he started scrolling through lists of love songs on the internet. Finally, he found it in a list of boy band love songs: "I Can Love You Like That" as covered by All-4-One. It was a little cheesy, but Blaine was okay with that.

He found some sheet music online and played through a few times, making a few adjustments here and there, then set up his camera and recorded. While the video was uploading, Blaine made another shorter recording and attached it to an email to Mercedes.

Once that was done, Blaine knew all he could do was wait and hope. Again. At least this time he could be satisfied with the knowledge that he'd actually tried. He wasn't leaving everything up to fate again.


	25. Chapter 25

When Kurt woke up the next morning, he was disappointed to see he was still in his bed in New York City, and not living in a small anonymous chateau in the French countryside. "So much for that whole wishing on a star business," Kurt muttered. Then again, it probably didn't count if the star was just a passing airplane rather than a celestial body, but living in a city as bright as NYC, Kurt had done the best he could.

Given how hungover Rachel was likely to be, Kurt didn't expect to see her for a while, which meant she probably wouldn't be joining him for his Sunday morning ritual of coffee and a pastry from the tiny little bakery several blocks away. Kurt didn't particularly mind. Rachel only joined him about half the time anyway, and this morning, Kurt wasn't sure he was ready to engage in casual conversation about last night anyway.

Though it was Sunday, it had a weirdly Saturday-like feeling to it, since the following day was the 4th of July and therefore a day off. Kurt lingered longer than usual in the shower, then took his time getting dressed. As usual, he grabbed a few reusable shopping bags on his way out the door for his weekly stop at the grocery store. He scrawled a short note to Rachel and left it on the counter under a glass of water and some aspirin for her inevitable headache, then headed out the door.

The city was especially quiet, even for a Sunday morning, most likely because people had gone away for the holiday weekend. Kurt almost wished it weren't – it was far too easy to dwell on last night's embarrassment when he wasn't constantly dodging other pedestrians. He'd been hoping getting out of the apartment would be a distraction from that. At the bakery, he spent extra time chatting with the owners, a cute older Italian couple he'd befriended in his many trips to the bakery. He wandered more than usual in the grocery store, looking at items he didn't even need. Eventually, though, he ran out of ways to delay the inevitable. It was time to go back to the apartment and face Rachel… and even worse, his own thoughts.

Back at the apartment, the water and the aspirin were gone, but Rachel's bedroom door was closed again. Kurt assumed she was curled up in bed, moaning that she would never drink alcohol ever again, which is how she usually spent days with severe hangovers. Kurt stowed the groceries and headed for his own room. He sat down at his desk and booted up his laptop to check his email.

The first thing that caught his eye was an email from Youtube about a new video on nightbirdsong's channel. Kurt resolutely tried to ignore it, instead reading the email from his dad and chuckling at the blunt and unflattering descriptions of some of the garage's recent customers. He scrolled past the email to open some older fashion newsletter emails he hadn't really been interested in reading until now. He even replied to a message from Adam and glanced at his spam folder to make sure nothing had accidentally ended up in there. Out of distractions, his curiosity finally got the better of him, and he opened the email and clicked on the video, then nervously bit his lower lip.

Just like Blaine's other videos, there was no intro, and the only things visible were the keyboard and Blaine's hands. Kurt immediately recognized "I Can Love You Like That," since cheesy boy band love songs were a secret guilty pleasure. As usual, Blaine's voice was steady and confident, and Kurt was filled with that same familiar longing.

When the song finished, Kurt's mind went into overdrive. There was no way Blaine could have posted this for him… not after last night. He'd probably posted yesterday and Kurt hadn't seen it. Kurt glanced quickly at the text below the video and saw the published date was July 3.

Okay, so he'd posted it today, but there was probably some way to schedule a post, so he'd probably recorded the video weeks ago. Or maybe he'd met someone else after Kurt had left last night, someone who wasn't a creepy stalker. It had nothing to do with Kurt. It couldn't. Not after Rachel had blurted out his secret.

Kurt let his eyes wander a little further to the video description. "To my Cinderella – you forgot to leave your shoe."

Kurt gasped. There was no mistaking that message. _Blaine had posted a song for him! _Kurt didn't understand why Blaine wasn't more freaked out by Rachel's confession, but it didn't matter. Blaine had sung him a song! Kurt pulled out his phone… and then realized he had no way of contacting Blaine. He hadn't stayed long enough to get his number, or email, or anything. He had the most adorable man in the world serenading him via Youtube, yet he had no way to get in touch with him._ Welcome to your life, Kurt Hummel, _he thought to himself.

He moped for a minute, hitting replay and dejectedly staring at the Youtube video as if some solution would magically appear. Then Kurt smacked himself in the forehead. "Duh. Mercedes!" he muttered to himself. If Blaine was Mercedes's boyfriend's best friend, Mercedes would know how to contact him. Kurt glanced over at the clock – a few minutes before noon. He tried to decide if it was too early to contact her, considering the hangover she was probably nursing this morning.

Luckily, he didn't have to debate very long. A notification popped up on his phone, alerting him of a new email from Mercedes. Kurt clicked back to his email on his laptop and opened the message.

_Hey, boo,_

_I have no idea what happened last night between you and Blaine, because you might have noticed I was a little… happy, let's say. Anyway, all I know is that I woke up to an email from him begging me to send you his contact info and the attached video. So here you go_.

_Also, he didn't tell me to say this part, but I've known Blaine for a long time now, and he's a fantastic guy. Like, really fantastic. Like if he were straight, I'd consider dumping Sam for him. Okay. Maybe not; I do love Sam a lot. But Blaine is great, so I hope you'll at least give him a chance… or let him give you a chance, depending on who screwed what up last night._

_Thanks for coming to my party, and have a happy 4__th__!_

_Mercedes_

_xoxoxo_

At the bottom of the message, she'd listed an email address and a phone number. Before Kurt did anything with them, he clicked to open the video file.

The setting was the same as Blaine's Youtube videos, but the camera had apparently been shifted, because Kurt could actually see Blaine's face. He was still wearing the bow tie and he looked exhausted, so Kurt assumed he had recorded this late last night before going to bed.

"Kurt. I am so sorry. I was just so surprised to be recognized from my Youtube channel, because as you can tell, I try to keep it pretty anonymous, and I froze. It's a long and complicated story why, one I'm not even sure I fully understand, but please let me try to explain it to you. Or at least… I don't know." Video Blaine scrubbed a hand over his face, and Kurt could tell he was fighting sleep. "Sorry, I don't even know what I'm saying, and it's late so I'll probably end up saying something inarticulate that will screw everything up again, so I'm just going to stop talking. Just… um…" Blaine shifted a little and placed his hands over the keyboard, then sang, "Hey, I just met you, and this is crazy, but here's my number, so call me maybe?" Then he gave a short little laugh, and Kurt laughed along with him. "Or text me. Or whatever. I just… I don't want tonight to be the end. I _really _don't want tonight to be the end." He was staring straight at the camera as he said that, his eyes sincere and unflinching. Then he blinked and smiled. "Anyway, I hope to hear from you soon, because I don't know how long I can wait before I pester Mercedes to give me your number anyway, even though I told myself I'd leave it entirely in your hands because I want you to be comfortable, so I can be comfortable." Then he shook his head. "Sorry. I'm overtalking. It's late. I'm tired. I'll um… I'm just going to cut this off now. Bye, Kurt. I am _so glad _I bumped into you again, and I hope to hear from you soon. I think I already said that. But I really mean it." Blaine gave him another sincere and heartwarming smile, waved briefly, and then shifted out of frame as the camera went black.

Kurt didn't even bother worrying if Blaine was awake or asleep. He pulled out his phone, punched Blaine's number into his contacts, and immediately sent a text.


	26. Chapter 26

Blaine wished he were capable of sleeping late. By the time he'd gotten to bed last night, it had been almost 5:30, so he'd hoped for once his internal body clock would let him get some rest. Of course it didn't. Two and a half hours later, he was awake, as if he had set his usual weekday alarm. Groaning, he rubbed his eyes. It was going to be a slow day today, that was for sure, and coffee was a must.

He slid out of bed and padded to the kitchen to brew some coffee. He barely even registered the first cup, chugging it down in the hopes it'd kick in quickly so he wouldn't be wandering like a zombie for hours. He took the second cup with him to the kitchen table, along with the bowl of cereal he'd poured. Usually on weekends, he liked to indulge in a bigger breakfast, usually after a nice long run, but this morning, Blaine would be surprised if he even made it to the shower.

While he ate, Blaine idly thumbed through the previous day's paper, which he'd never cleaned up. He knew the Sunday paper was probably sitting outside the door, but the effort required to go to the door to retrieve it was far too much for Blaine's current energy level.

After he finished his second cup of coffee, Blaine was energized enough to shuffle to the bathroom. On his way back to the living room, he shuffled to the front door and picked up the paper, dropping it on the coffee table. His mind was too hazy to actually read anything. He sank onto the couch and channel-surfed until he found a _Law and Order _marathon.

It was just as the fifth episode started that Blaine heard his phone's text message sound echoing from his bedroom. He rolled to a sitting position and meandered down the hall to grab it. Probably Sam or Mercedes, thanking him for his help last night.

He unlocked his phone screen and found a message from a number he didn't recognize. "Are you a glutton for punishment or something? Do you have some weird fetish for humiliation that you're expecting me to fill? Because I assure you, despite all evidence to the contrary, I don't regularly find myself in embarrassing situations, so you're going to be disappointed."

The last of Blaine's sleepiness vanished. _Kurt. It had to be Kurt. _Still, just to be sure, he typed back, "Kurt?"

The reply was immediate. "Are you expecting multiple texts today from people who are constantly in embarrassing situations around you?"

Blaine laughed. "No," he replied. "And none of our situations have ever been that embarrassing."

"You must have weird standards for what constitutes 'embarrassing.' I would say semi-drunkenly begging a stranger to let you duet, hearing about my sexual history from my no-filter friend, and finding out I'm a creepy stalker because my other friend can't keep her mouth shut all count," Kurt's answering text read.

"You ever consider that maybe you need new friends?" Blaine teased. "Ones who aren't likely to embarrass you at any given moment?"

"All the time." Kurt replied. His next text was almost immediate. "But I do notice that there's a huge imbalance of embarrassingly revealed secrets in this relationship. I hope you have some friends who can rectify that."

"I'll give you Sam's number. He'd be more than happy to help. I think embarrassing me is his life mission."

"Sounds perfect."

"You know, you're not a very good creepy stalker," Blaine typed, then hesitated before pressing send. What if that would just embarrass Kurt and send him running? Blaine reread their text exchange so far and decided to risk it. Kurt seemed to be pretty playful this afternoon.

Kurt's reply was an angry emoticon, followed by, "Says who?"

"Well, if you were, you'd be here right now."

"Who says I'm not?" Kurt replied with a winking face.

"I do, because I'm here and I don't see you."

"That's the definition of a good stalker."

Blaine sent back an emoticon sticking out its tongue, then added, "If you were here, I'd much rather you be visible and with me than hiding in a tree outside my window watching me. There are much better ways we could be spending our time together."

There was a long pause before the next reply came in, long enough that Blaine panicked he might have been too forward or too… something. Finally, a new message appeared. "Why, Mr. Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is, I'm not entirely sure I know you well enough to allow that kind of talk."

Blaine smiled. "Anderson," he typed. "My last name's Anderson."

"Pleasure to meet you, Blaine Anderson, but that's not enough."

Blaine sent back a frowning face. "What else can I do?"

"Go on a date with me."

Blaine blinked a few times, then rubbed his eyes. The text didn't disappear. He pinched himself, just to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep. The text was still there.

"Name the time and place, and I'm there," he typed back.

"Wow. An open acceptance without any restrictions. Aren't you supposed to play it cool? Act like you'll have to check your schedule or something? Pretend you have plans that might conflict?"

Blaine shrugged, then remembered Kurt couldn't see him. "I'm not really one for playing games."

Kurt replied with a smiling face. "What are you up to today?" he asked.

"Aren't you supposed to play it cool? Act like you'll have to check your schedule or something? Pretend you have plans that might conflict?" Blaine copied.

"I'm not really one for playing games either. If we both want to see each other, why waste our time? Plus, I've already humiliated myself completely in front of you, multiple times, and you keep coming back for more, so I figure I'm pretty safe regardless of what I do," Kurt replied. "So… today's schedule, Mr. Anderson?"

"Completely open. What did you have in mind?"

"I know it's totally cheesy, but given your choice of song last night (well, this morning – thank you for that, by the way), I'm guessing cheesy's okay. How would you feel about a picnic in Central Park? It's been on my NYC to-do list since I moved here, and I've never actually gotten around to it. But the weather's beautiful and the city's quieter than usual because everyone's out of town for the holiday, so it seems like the perfect day."

"Sounds perfect to me. What time?"

"How's 3? That'll give me time to pull together a menu."

"I can help with food."

"Unless you are also someone who enjoys gourmet cooking as a hobby, no, you can't."

"I don't. But there must be something I can bring."

"Got a blanket?"

Blaine thought about it. There must be something somewhere in the apartment. "I'll find something."

"Want to meet at 84th and 5th? We can walk in and find a spot on the Great Lawn."

"Sounds perfect."

Kurt sent a smiley face back, and Blaine couldn't help but smile back. He knew he looked ridiculous, sitting in his empty apartment smiling at his phone, but he was too excited to care. For a day that had had such inauspicious beginnings, it was certainly turning out very nicely.

_[Author note: I wrote these as quickly as I could and am bulk-publishing them, because I think you all would have revolted (quite justifiably) if I had left you hanging with Kurt running away again. Thanks for being so patient with me and this fic!]_


	27. Chapter 27

Kurt sent a smiley face to Blaine, then put down the phone and bounced in his chair, letting out a small little squeal of excitement. Then he looked over at the clock. It was 12:20, and to make sure he got to the park on time, he would have to leave at 2:30. Which meant he had about 2 hours to pull both himself and a fabulous picnic together. Too bad he hadn't known about this picnic before he went to the store this morning, so he could have picked up what he needed then. It would be cutting it pretty close to try to shower, pick out an outfit, get ready, go to the store, and assemble the ingredients by 2:30.

"Rachel!" he shouted, dashing out of his bedroom and knocking rapidly on her door. At the last second, he remembered her hangover and felt a little guilty, but then he figured she kind of owed him after last night. "Rachel, I need help!"

He heard her shuffling to the door, and finally it cracked open. Rachel looked miserable. She was in baggy sweats, with her hair tangled around her face in complete disarray. "What?" she croaked as she flopped back on her bed.

Kurt flounced into her room and perched on the end of the bed. "I need your help. I have a date…"

Rachel sat up quickly, suddenly looking significantly less miserable. "You have a date?" she repeated excitedly. "With whom?"

"Blaine. No thanks to you, by the way," he added.

Rachel ignored his barb and clapped her hands. "You have a date with Nightbirdsong!"

"You need to stop calling him that."

"Oh my gosh, Kurt, this is amazing!" Rachel gushed. "You two are _so _cute together, and his voice perfectly complements yours without overpowering you."

"Obviously the most important thing in a potential relationship," Kurt quipped, but Rachel nodded sincerely.

"So how can I help?" Rachel asked.

"I'm supposed to meet him at 3 for a picnic in Central Park…"

"A picnic in Central Park? That's_ so_ romantic," Rachel interrupted.

"…which doesn't give me much time to get ready and make a delicious meal. I was hoping if I gave you a short list of ingredients, you could run to the store and get them while I shower and do my hair?"

Rachel was already climbing out of bed. "Absolutely. Let me just put on some real clothes and find my sunglasses…" She started muttering to herself as she opened drawers and pulled out clothing.

"I'll leave the list on the counter," Kurt told her as he left. In the kitchen, he grabbed a notepad and a pen and started writing things down as he went through recipes in his mind. He wanted to keep it fairly simple and stick to relatively traditional picnic elements, but simple didn't have to mean boring.

He had just about settled on a menu when he realized there was an important question he hadn't asked. "Do you have any dietary restrictions I should know about?" he texted quickly to Blaine.

Thankfully, the reply was immediate. "Nope. I'm easy," followed by a winking face.

Kurt grinned. "Well, that's a loaded answer, and unfortunately one I really don't have the time to do justice to," he typed back.

Blaine replied with another winking face, and Kurt grinned. In just two and a half hours, this adorable man would be sitting with him on a picnic blanket in Central Park. Kurt's mind wandered into a lovely daydream of romantic picnics and Blaine's gorgeous, uninhibited smile. He was just letting his mind drift to other talents Blaine's mouth might have when he caught a glimpse of the time. "Eek!" he shrieked. There wasn't time for daydreaming! He grabbed his wallet, left a few bills to cover the ingredients with the grocery list on the counter for Rachel, and ran to his bedroom to grab his robe.

After what might have been the quickest shower of his life, Kurt toweled off and headed for his closet. He selected and then discarded 5 outfits before finally settling on two options, which he laid carefully on his bed for later deliberation. He ran through his skincare routine as quickly as possible. As he sat down to do his hair, he heard the door open.

"I'm back!" Rachel shouted.

"Come help me make an outfit decision!" Kurt called back.

Rachel appeared in the doorway. "Ooo, that's cute," she cooed, pointing to one of the ensembles Kurt had assembled.

Kurt glanced at her in the mirror. "I'm not really going for 'cute,' Rachel. Cute is old ladies pinching babies' cheeks because they apparently think that's a way of expressing affection. I want an understated hot and sexy. Something that says 'I want you thinking about last night's kiss and how anxious you are for more.'"

"You kissed?!" Rachel shrieked. "And you didn't tell me?"

Kurt focused back on his reflection, concentrating on getting his hair to the perfect height. "In case you didn't notice, you were a little busy ruining everything, so I didn't really get a chance."

Rachel made a dismissive "pff" noise. "Clearly I didn't ruin everything, since you're about to go on a date with the man." She bit her lip as she considered the outfits. "This one," she finally said, pointing to other outfit, a printed Vivienne Westwood button-down shirt over tight blue pants and a pair of Marc Jacobs slide-on sneakers.

Kurt's lips were tightly sealed while he applied hairspray, so it took him a few seconds to reply. "I was leaning toward that one too," he said. He spun around and looked at Rachel. "How do I look so far?"

Rachel surveyed his hair, then smiled. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

Kurt smiled back. "Thanks. Now get out of my room so I can get dressed. I'm on a tight schedule."

"Let me know if I can help with anything else," Rachel said over her shoulder as she shut the door behind her.

Kurt dressed quickly, then slipped on an apron to protect his outfit while he prepared steak sandwiches, deviled eggs, pasta salad, slaw, and fruit salad. At some point, he yelled for Rachel and had her chopping things for him to expedite the process, but even so, it was quarter to 3 when Kurt finished.

"I'll clean up. You just go," Rachel assured him while he frantically packed everything into the beautiful picnic basket he'd gotten for a bargain at an estate sale years ago, but had never had the opportunity to use.

"Thank you!" Kurt called as he headed as quickly as possible for the door.

"Kurt, wait! Your apron!"

Without breaking his stride, Kurt shifted the picnic basket to his left hand, used his right to untie the knot, and yanked it over his head. Already halfway out the door, he tossed it back into the apartment. "Sorry!" he yelled.

Rachel ran to the door of the apartment and waved as he ran down the stairs. "Don't worry about it! Have fun!"

Kurt fluttered his hand above his head in acknowledgement, though he realized she shouldn't see him now that he was a flight away. He reached the street and walked as quickly as possible over a few blocks to hail a cab. After he piled into the backseat and told the driver the destination, he pulled out his phone. "I'm not standing you up. I'm just running late. I promise I'll be there really soon."

Blaine's reply came quickly. "I've waited a long time for this date. I think I can handle a few extra minutes."

"A long time? It hasn't even been 24 hours since I saw you last," Kurt texted back.

"Exactly. A long time," Blaine replied with a wink.

Kurt grinned. This was going to be a really awesome date. He could feel it.


	28. Chapter 28

From the minute he had received the text asking him on a date, Blaine had felt like he was floating. When they had finalized their plans for the day, Blaine had danced his way down the hall to the shower. He had sung "It's Not Unusual" while bopping around his room picking out clothes. He had run through a whole medley of Top 40 hits while hunting for an adequate picnic blanket. He'd continued humming when he left his apartment. Thanks to his parents' financial support, Blaine's apartment was within walking distance of Central Park. A bit of a long walk, but on a beautiful day like this, Blaine didn't mind.

Blaine knew he was attracting some weird looks because of the way he was practically skipping down the street, but he couldn't help it. He was on his way to see Kurt. _Kurt. _If these people knew Kurt, they'd understand. They'd probably be clapping for him and cheering him on with excitement.

On his way, Blaine stopped in a Target, since the hunt for a picnic blanket had been unsuccessful. He sauntered to the outdoor section, where he found a nice blue blanket. _Just like Kurt's eyes_, he thought to himself. When another couple came around the end of the aisle and stopped abruptly with a concerned look, Blaine realized he was dreamily smiling at and caressing a blanket. He gave them an apologetic half-smile, grabbed the blanket, and started for the exit.

He was almost to the cash registers when something in the toy section caught his eye. Making an abrupt turn, he looked at the endcap display promoting the latest superhero film. In addition to action figures and storybooks, there was a coloring book. Blaine flipped through it and saw it included a variety of characters. With a smile, he picked it up, then headed into the section to find a large box of crayons. After checkout, he dropped them in the canvas bag he'd brought and headed for the park.

Blaine got to the designated meeting spot 15 minutes early, so he picked a spot in the shade to lean against the fence on the corner. Though he knew Kurt wasn't due for another 15 minutes, he couldn't help scanning constantly for any sign of him. He watched every taxi as it approached, wondering if it would stop and Kurt would emerge.

At 2:53, Blaine's phone vibrated in his pocket. He panicked when he saw a message from Kurt, convinced it would say that Kurt had changed his mind and wasn't coming and could he please delete the contact because Kurt never wanted to speak to him again. Blaine told himself he was being ridiculous and opened the message. "I'm not standing you up. I'm just running late. I promise I'll be there really soon."

Blaine sighed in relief. He was still coming. He was on his way. He would be here soon. Blaine typed back the truth. "I've waited a long time for this date. I think I can handle a few extra minutes."

When Kurt replied that it hadn't even been 24 hours, Blaine teasingly replied that that was a long time. He'd wait until Kurt arrived to tell him the truth: Blaine had been looking forward to this date for much longer than 24 hours.

Around 3:15, a cab pulled up to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and this time, Kurt did emerge. Blaine watched him gracefully get out, picnic basket in hand. He looked like a fashion model, and Blaine swooned. While Kurt skimmed the relatively light crowds looking for him, Blaine hurried across the street. When Kurt spotted him and smiled, Blaine's heart leapt out of his chest.

He greeted Kurt with a quick kiss on the cheek and couldn't help but grin when the inevitable blush appeared. Kurt shyly smiled, then said, "Shall we?"

"We shall," Blaine replied with a grin. They made their way down the street to a path leading into the park.

"So the way I see it, we have three major options," Kurt said as they walked. "We can go for something really secluded, like hauling up to the north end of the park to Great Hill; we can go for something semi-private, like by Turtle Pond and Belvedere Castle or down in Strawberry Fields; or…" Kurt's face lit up "…we can people-watch on the Great Lawn."

Blaine laughed. "Gee, I wonder which one of those is your preference."

Kurt's lips twitched. "Don't let my opinion sway you. I mean, I _did_ make us a lovely meal, and this date was _my _idea, but you shouldn't let any of those influence your opinion."

Blaine tilted his head in consideration. "Hm… You know, people-watching on the Great Lawn sounds wonderful."

Kurt smiled. "I knew you'd make the right choice."

Their shoulders occasionally brushed as they made their way to the Great Lawn. Blaine let Kurt take the lead. Kurt kept walking until he reached a shady spot near a few trees at the edge of the big, open grassy area. "How's this?" Kurt asked.

"Do I really get a choice?" Blaine teased.

"Not really," Kurt admitted. "Did you bring a blanket?"

Blaine shifted and pulled the blanket out of his canvas bag. He shook it open and laid it on the ground with a flourish. "After you," he said, extending his hand in welcome.

Kurt placed the picnic basket at the edge of the blanket before sitting. Blaine joined him and watched as Kurt pulled out a series of containers. Blaine couldn't tell what was in them, but he was impressed by the number. "You pulled all this together that quickly?"

"What can I say? I'm kind of magical."

"Well, I already knew that," Blaine replied, and he was rewarded with that familiar and endearing pink tinge in Kurt's cheeks.

Kurt passed Blaine a plastic bottle and two plastic cups. "Can you pour the iced tea while I open everything up?"

Blaine agreed and took the cups. He filled them both and set them near the edge of the blanket, so that if they spilled, it would hopefully land on the grass and not the blanket. Kurt efficiently opened the containers, and Blaine's mouth watered.

"You weren't kidding about that gourmet cooking hobby," Blaine observed.

"Just wait until you taste it," Kurt bragged. He handed Blaine a paper plate and kept one for himself, then placed a sandwich on each one. They took turns filling their plates with a little bit of everything else. Kurt reached back into the basket and pulled out napkins and utensils, and they started eating.

From the first bite, Blaine was hooked. He had no idea what exactly he was eating – he could figure out some of the basic ingredients, but most of it was a mystery – but he knew he had never tasted anything better. He mentioned as much to Kurt, who just gave him a smug smile.

While they ate, they invented elaborate backstories for people walking by. Kurt's tended to be more melodramatic, with cheating spouses and long-lost twins and secret plots, while Blaine favored science fiction plots, like alien abductions and evil clones and life-like robots. The longer they played, the more outlandish the stories became, and soon they were both laughing hysterically.

Though Blaine was pleasantly full, Kurt insisted they try to finish everything up because it wouldn't hold up well in the heat. Blaine took that as a positive sign that Kurt wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon, so eating a little more seemed a small sacrifice to make for more time with Kurt.

After they'd eaten everything and cleaned up, Blaine reached into his canvas bag. "I got you a present."

Kurt's eyes widened in excitement. "A present?"

Blaine nodded and pulled out the coloring book and crayons. "So you can give them the makeovers they so desperately need."

Kurt smiled and reached for the supplies. "When I'm done with them, you will be sorry you ever doubted superheroes in pastels." He flipped through the book, then went back to the first double spread. He shifted so he was lying on his stomach, with the crayons and book in front of him. Kurt pushed the book toward the center of the blanket. "You can color this page," he offered, gesturing to the page closer to Blaine.

"I get to do one? Are you going to tell me what to do?"

Kurt shrugged. "I already know you're a lost cause when it comes to having fashion taste, so I'm not going to waste my time and my talent trying to fix you."

Blaine scoffed. "On behalf of my bow tie, I would like to express outrage at your continued hatred toward it."

Kurt rolled his eyes as Blaine moved to lie on his stomach too. "My superhero is going to be better than your superhero," Blaine taunted.

"As if," Kurt said, carefully selecting an assortment of crayons from the box.

They worked in silence, but Blaine kept stealing glances at Kurt. He looked so cute, completely focused on his task, biting his lower lip in concentration. Blaine finished his picture of Batman pretty quickly, so he started adding embellishments to the background. He drew in the Batmobile and was just about to attempt a sketch of Robin when Kurt finally set down his crayons. "Done," he announced.

Blaine looked over at the picture of Superman, done in shades of purple. "You know, it actually does look kind of nice," he admitted.

Kurt smiled in triumph. "Told you." Then he sat up and rotated his shoulders. "I am getting too old for lying on the ground for extended periods of time."

"And how old is that?"

"Fishing, Mr. Anderson? Not very subtle." He rolled his head in a circle as if working out a cramp in his neck. "I'm 27."

"Oh, yes, you are ancient then."

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Blaine. "Why, how old are you?"

"26."

"Right, because that's so much younger," Kurt replied sarcastically.

Blaine smiled and rolled onto his back to lean on his elbows. "You don't see me groaning and complaining about aches and pains."

Kurt glared at him. "Fine. You can stay here and enjoy the hard ground while I go for a walk."

"I want to come for a walk!" Blaine protested, pouting exaggeratedly.

Kurt's face remained impassive. "I don't know. You called me ancient."

Blaine gave Kurt his most charming smile. "Pleeeeeease?" he begged.

Kurt gave him a long look, and Blaine could tell Kurt was struggling to keep a straight face. Despite Kurt's best efforts, his eyes were twinkling with amusement and his lips had turned upward slightly at the corners. "Okay, fine," Kurt conceded, his smile breaking free and flashing across his face. Then he muttered something that sounded like, "You are a puppy," under his breath while he straightened and moved off the blanket.

Blaine scrambled off the blanket and started hastily folding it up to put it back in the canvas bag. Kurt held out the coloring book and crayons, and Blaine slipped them back into his bag, since there was no room in the picnic basket.

"Do you want me to carry that?" Blaine offered, gesturing toward the basket.

"No, that's alright," Kurt replied. "It's very light now that all the containers are empty."

"If you change your mind, let me know."

"Still trying to redeem yourself after the ancient remark? Because it's going to take more than that."

Blaine sighed dramatically. "I was afraid of that."

They made their way to the path and started walking south toward Turtle Pond. Blaine let his hand brush against Kurt's, and when Kurt didn't pull away, he laced their fingers together. He glanced over at Kurt to gauge his reaction and was pleased to see that familiar pink flush and a small, satisfied smile on Kurt's face.

"So do you come here often?" Blaine asked.

Kurt gave him a sardonic look. "Really, Blaine? Really? Cheesy pick-up lines?"

"No! No, that's not what I meant. I was going somewhere with that."

Kurt raised his eyebrows. "If you think that line would have gotten anyone to go anywhere… I have to wonder what kind of men you've been dating."

"No! That's not what I meant either." Blaine scrubbed his free hand over his face. "I was going to ask if you came here a lot, because I do, and it does seem rather empty today."

"Mhm," Kurt said, not sounding convinced at all. "Nice try."

"Alright then. Your turn, Mr. Conversational Wizard. Let's see what you've got," Blaine challenged.

"Don't you just love long weekends?" Kurt said with a contented sigh. "Especially in the summer. Three whole days to just relax, no deadlines to worry about, no alarm clocks…"

"Speak for yourself," Blaine replied. "Some of us will be working tomorrow."

Kurt gasped. "What kind of evil, unpatriotic supervillain do you work for? The Red Skull?"

Blaine glanced over at him with a slightly suspicious look. "I thought you didn't do comic books," he said questioningly.

"I don't. But I do Chris Evans movies." When Blaine chuckled, Kurt continued, "I mean, have you _seen _his abs?"

Blaine hummed appreciatively in agreement.

"So what is it you do that you have to work on the 4th of July?" Kurt asked.

"I'm a lab technician for a cancer biologist," Blaine replied. "And I don't really have to work tomorrow, at least not for long. I'm responsible for keeping our cell cultures going, and the media should be changed tomorrow…" Kurt's eyes seemed to have glazed over, so Blaine laughed. "I have to feed some cells. Think of it like a pet. I can't leave them unattended for too long or they'll all die."

"Are they cute and fuzzy?"

Blaine shook his head.

"Can you dress them in adorable handmade outfits and take photos?"

Blaine shook his head.

Kurt seemed disappointed. "They sound like horrible pets."

Blaine laughed. "Yes, but they might hold the key to curing cancer, or at least coming up with new treatments, so I think I'll keep them."

Kurt grinned as they turned up the stairs toward Belvedere Castle. Then he gave Blaine an assessing look. "I have to admit, I didn't see you as a lab technician."

"Well, I won't be one forever. I plan on going to medical school."

That information didn't change Kurt's slightly perplexed expression. "I didn't really picture you as a doctor either. With the way you sing and perform…" He trailed off and shrugged. "I just wouldn't have expected 'becoming a doctor' to be your big dream."

"It wasn't initially," Blaine confessed. "I was planning on doing a double major in music theatre and music composition at NYU when I first came to New York, but…" Blaine stopped speaking, trying to decide how much to reveal. He felt really comfortable with Kurt, and he already knew a lot of Kurt's secrets so he felt he could trust him, but this was still a first date.

"But?" Kurt prompted gently.

Ultimately, Blaine decided to do what he'd always done when it came to Kurt: leave it up to Kurt. "If I tell you, it will probably change your opinion of me. Probably not positively. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

Kurt gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You already know a lot of really unflattering things about me, and you haven't run. The least I can do is return the favor."

Blaine's lips quirked in a tiny smile. Then he took a deep breath before beginning. He told Kurt all about being a rock star at his small private school in Ohio (which prompted a brief interruption in which Kurt excitedly exclaimed that he, too, was from Ohio, and they compared Ohio stories), and his growing insecurity upon realizing being one of the best in Ohio did not make him one of the best at NYU, and his development of crippling stage fright, culminating in the decision to focus on a new dream: becoming a doctor.

Kurt listened patiently, holding his hand tightly and supportively as they continued past Belvedere Castle and entered the tree-lined paths of the Ramble. When Blaine finished, Kurt gave him an indecipherable look.

"What?" Blaine asked.

"I'm trying to decide if I want to say what I'm thinking or not."

"Isn't it a little late in our relationship for a filter?" Blaine teased.

"This is only our first date!"

"And yet I know you have habits of drunkenly begging strangers for duets, having public sex with British men in karaoke bar restrooms, and obsessing over random strangers on Youtube."

Kurt flushed again. "I do not make _habits_ of any of those things!"

Blaine bumped their shoulders together playfully. "That's not what I've heard."

"All those things have only happened once, okay? And the restroom one didn't even happen. Not really."

Blaine lifted his eyebrow in question. "Not really?" he repeated, intrigued.

"Remember we were talking about you?" Kurt asked. "Let's get back to that."

Blaine flashed a quick smile, then sobered. "Kurt, I want us to be honest with each other. Just… say what you want to say."

"It just… kind of seems like you ran away."

"Coming from the expert on that?" Blaine shot back, then immediately regretted it when Kurt's hand started to pull away. "Wait, no, sorry. That was out of line. Sometimes I lash out when I'm uncomfortable."

Kurt's hand settled back into position. "No, you're right. I do have a tendency to run away. And I tend to do that when I get uncomfortable, as you've probably noticed. Which is why I recognize it so well when I see it. You got scared, and you ran."

"Kurt, I physically couldn't perform. Until that night at Warblers, I hadn't been on a stage in 8 years."

"I know," Kurt said gently. "I'm not saying it would be easy, but you could work on it. You've performed a couple times now, and you're fantastic, Blaine. It would just be a shame to walk away from that just because of some justifiable but unfounded insecurities 8 years ago."

"Maybe I was meant to walk away from all that. I mean, I have always loved medicine. George Clooney as Dr. Ross on _ER _was my first crush, and my favorite board game as a kid was always Operation."

Kurt gave him a skeptical look, but before Blaine could question it, Kurt cut him off. "I'm not saying you won't be a great doctor. I'm sure you would be. You're charming and funny and sweet…" Blaine broke into a huge grin at all the compliments "…but I just wonder if maybe you have convinced yourself that this is what you want just because it's easier than going after what you actually want. I get that it's scary, but you can't shy away from your greatness just because you're afraid you're not great enough. And you are great, Blaine."

Blaine smiled softly, a little overwhelmed by the depth of the conversation and a little unnerved by how well Kurt seemed to know him already. Blaine wasn't quite sure what to say, so he just squeezed Kurt's hand and hoped it conveyed gratitude at Kurt's frankness. Blaine would definitely have to think more about what Kurt said, but for now he was just glad Kurt had felt comfortable enough to say it.

Now that there was a pause in their conversation, Kurt finally seemed to notice where they were. He eyed the thick trees growing around them a little distastefully. "I think my most terrifying New York City-related nightmare is getting lost in this place and having to survive on a diet of tree bark, leaves, and mysterious fungi."

"There's always the squirrels," Blaine suggested helpfully. "You could capture them for protein."

"Blaine, do I look like someone who would capture squirrels and willingly consume their meat?"

"You are a gourmet chef. I'm sure you could do something creative."

Kurt scoffed. "Trust me, there is no gourmet cooking recipe that calls for squirrel meat, and no amount of creativity will ever change that."

They reached a fork in the paths, and Kurt looked at their options warily. "This is how it starts. You pick a path, and then another, and then another, and suddenly you find yourself back somewhere very similar to where you started with absolutely no clue how to get out, and you end up trapped in Central Park forever until someone finds your decaying body among the trees and they turn you into a _Bones _episode."

Blaine laughed. "Don't worry, baby. Stick with me and we'll be out of here in no time," he asserted as he confidently led them down the left fork.


	29. Chapter 29

Kurt didn't want to get too optimistic, considering the date wasn't over, so there was still time for a catastrophe, but if all continued smoothly, this would easily be the best date he'd ever been on. It wasn't even the setting, although the idyllic summer day and picnic in Central Park were definitely positives. But it was Blaine. He was… Kurt ran through a list of adjectives in his head, and none of them seemed _enough _to describe Blaine. They weren't strong enough or vibrant enough or deep enough. Blaine was all of them at the same time, and more.

Kurt also wondered why he was so comfortable around Blaine already, and why he wasn't more nervous about how comfortable he was around Blaine. Kurt had known Blaine… actually known Blaine, which only really came after a real conversation… for about 24 hours now, yet here he was, already offering advice and commentary on Blaine's life and goals. Kurt had been with Chandler for months and never reached that point. Kurt wasn't sure he and Chandler had ever even discussed their life goals or dreams. With Adam, it had taken a long time before Kurt had felt like they could have such deep conversations, and usually they'd ended with one person storming away in anger after someone took something the wrong way. But here Kurt and Blaine were, seconds after Kurt calling Blaine out for being too scared to be great, and Blaine was playfully teasing him about eating squirrel meat and drawling pet names as he promised to get them out of the Ramble.

And they were holding hands! And they'd already kissed! Many in Kurt's circle, including Adam, had referred to him as slightly frigid. Kurt preferred to refer to it as being selective about whom he showed physical affection. Yet here he was, publicly holding hands with Blaine on their first date, after publicly kissing him yesterday after their first real conversation. It should terrify Kurt, but he was just so _comfortable _with Blaine that it was hard to be scared of anything_._

Well, except maybe getting lost in the Ramble. Although Blaine had promised to get them out, Kurt wasn't so sure it could be done. Kurt was pretty sure the Ramble had been designed to be completely impossible to escape and was meant to serve as a torture device. Kurt was initially impressed that Blaine wasn't even hesitating whenever the path split, confidently choosing a direction, until they passed a bench that looked familiar. "Blaine? Are you sure you know where you're going? Because I'm pretty sure we've already walked past that bench."

Blaine turned to glance at it over his shoulder. "There are a lot of benches that look the same. Maybe it's a different one."

"With the exact same pigeon poop spot right in the middle of the seat?"

"There are a lot of pigeons, so it's statistically possible."

Kurt gave Blaine a penetrating glare. "Blaine, do you know where we're going?"

Blaine smiled sheepishly. "Okay, maybe not exactly, but I'm sure we'll find our way out." He started to walk again, but since Kurt wasn't moving and their hands were still connected, Blaine stopped abruptly. He turned and looked at Kurt questioningly.

"You said you knew the way out!" Kurt accused.

"No, technically I said I'd get us out. Which I will," Blaine quipped.

"After leading us in circles for hours?"

"It won't take hours," Blaine assured him.

Kurt raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

"The Ramble's not that big. It's not going to take hours."

Kurt remained skeptical, but when Blaine pointed out the only options were to stay there or follow him, Kurt reluctantly began walking again.

A few minutes later, they wandered down another identically confusing path, as far as Kurt was concerned, and reached a welcome sight: the Lake. Which meant they were out of the Ramble.

Blaine smiled proudly. "Told you I'd get us out," he boasted with a cheeky grin.

Kurt shook his head and rolled his eyes, and Blaine laughed. "Next time I'm bringing breadcrumbs," Kurt promised.

"Does that make me Hansel or Gretel?" Blaine wondered aloud.

"Gretel. I think she's pretty useless at the beginning."

"Thanks," Blaine replied with a laugh. "But hey, isn't she the one who tricks the witch into the oven? Ultimately saving the day? Sounds pretty good to me."

"Hm. Maybe you're the witch," Kurt mused. "Luring innocent people to their deaths by convincing them to trust you when they shouldn't."

Blaine slapped his free hand over his heart. "That hurts, Kurt. That hurts."

"Yes, well, the truth hurts sometimes, Blaine."

Blaine looked like he was about to say something, but then his head turned sharply as something caught his eye. "Look, ducks!" he exclaimed, pointing toward three birds waddling across the grass. "Now I also wish we had some breadcrumbs." He dropped Kurt's hand and started walking across the grass toward them, humming the _Ducktales_ theme song.

"Are you sure you're 26 and not just 6?" Kurt asked as he watched in amusement from the path.

"Of course I am. Poor deprived 6-year-olds these days don't know the _Ducktales_ theme song." Blaine continued quietly following the ducks toward the lake. "Do you think they're boys?"

"Yes, based on my extensive study of duck anatomy, I can confidently state that they are boys," Kurt replied sarcastically.

Blaine shot Kurt an unamused look over his shoulder. "Kurt, this is very important. I need to know if I can call them Huey, Dewey, and Louie."

"Somehow I don't think they'll mind either way," Kurt replied.

Blaine followed the ducks to the edge of the water. Two of the ducks slid into the water immediately, but one duck seemed hesitant. "Hurry up, Louie! They're leaving you behind!" Blaine encouraged. When the duck slipped into the water and followed the other two, Blaine clapped in glee. Then Blaine darted back to the path and grabbed Kurt's hand again, pulling him toward the rocky outcropping further up the path where a few people were sitting and watching the lake. "C'mon. I don't want to lose sight of them!"

"Seriously. Are you sure you're not 6? Because I feel like your nanny right now."

"My nanny? Not my parent? That's very posh of you, Kurt Hummel," Blaine teased as he climbed up the rocks and sat down in a spot to watch the ducks.

Kurt settled next to Blaine, close enough that they were touching from shoulder to hip. Then he turned to Blaine in surprise. "Wait. How do you know my last name?"

Kurt felt Blaine tense. "Um… I have a confession to make," Blaine said.

"A confession? You're really taking this whole correcting the imbalance of the embarrassing secrets to heart, aren't you?" Kurt teased.

When Blaine didn't smile, Kurt grew worried. He tightened his grip on Blaine's hand and ran his thumb across Blaine's knuckles in a comforting motion. "Blaine, you can tell me anything." Kurt knew that wasn't typical first date conversation, but it was true. Somehow, this didn't feel like a first date. It felt like a continuation of… something. Kurt just couldn't put his finger on what.

Blaine turned his head to look directly into Kurt's eyes. After a moment, he turned back toward the pond and admitted, "That first duet wasn't my first time at Warblers."


	30. Chapter 30

Blaine risked a glance over at Kurt. His eyes were wide in shock, and he clearly didn't know what to say. Blaine decided to keep talking, to try to explain. "Sam brought me once in mid-April, and I saw you perform, so I heard your name when Mercedes introduced you that night."

Kurt finally spoke. "You were there? But… you didn't perform…"

"Remember? Crippling stage fright?" Blaine reminded him gently.

Kurt still seemed to be processing, but Blaine felt like he needed to tell Kurt everything, so he continued. "There's more. I… um… how do I put this?" Blaine paused for a second, searching for the right words. Kurt's expression hadn't changed. "Your performance was incredible and passionate and emotional and… You moved me, Kurt. I couldn't get you out of my head. So two weeks later, I went back. Mostly to try to convince myself you weren't as unbelievably amazing as I remembered so that I could stop thinking about you all the time. But you weren't there. So I went again the next week. And you were even more unbelievably amazing than I remembered, but then Sam stopped going, and I couldn't stop thinking about you, so finally I convinced my friend Wes to come with me, which is the night we sang the duet," Blaine concluded. He knew he had rushed through, but Kurt seemed to have caught enough of it to need to process, because his expression had grown more contemplative as he stared out at the lake.

"Wow," Kurt finally said, his tone flat and his expression neutral. Blaine's heart sank. This was it. Their perfect date was over. Kurt was leaving.

"I can't believe…" Kurt continued slowly, pausing to take a deep breath, and Blaine braced for what was coming next. It wasn't going to be good.

"…that I'm not the only creepy stalker in this relationship!" Kurt finished, playfully nudging Blaine.

Blaine felt every tense muscle in his body relax as he laughed in relief.

Kurt smiled. "You really thought I was going to freak out because you were obsessing over my voice while I was obsessing over yours?"

Blaine nodded slightly, and Kurt squeezed his hand in reassurance. Blaine took a minute to let his racing heart slow down and take a few deep breaths to relax. Then he looked over at Kurt again. "You know, it's actually a little unfair. I made it really easy for you to obsess over me. All you had to do was watch Youtube videos. I had to work for it."

"Get used to it, Blaine Anderson, because I am not easy," Kurt replied without a hint of shame.

Blaine grinned. "If it means I get to keep you in my life, I can get used to just about anything."

Kurt looked away on the pretense of watching a group of teenagers trying to race in paddleboats, but Blaine saw the pleased smile Kurt was trying to hide.

They stayed on the rocks for a long time, chatting about favorite music, TV shows, Kurt's job at Vogue and his dream of being a Broadway star, growing up in Ohio… it was easy and natural and effortless. Blaine hadn't felt this connected to anyone in a very long time. Their hands were still linked loosely between them, their shoulders brushing every time either of them shifted. Blaine could have contentedly stayed like this for a very long time, but as the sun began to set, they found themselves swatting away bugs more frequently.

"I should have thought of bug spray," Kurt muttered as he slapped a mosquito against his arm.

Blaine suppressed a smile, because he didn't want Kurt to think he was enjoying dealing with mosquitoes. Knowing that Kurt didn't want to go, though, even with the mosquitoes, made Blaine very happy. That knowledge also gave him the strength to say, "You know, we could leave. We don't have to stay."

Kurt's look of surprise was quickly chased by a hurt expression. "Oh, yes, I guess…" he started to say, shifting away as if he was going to stand.

Blaine quickly brought his other hand to cover their still-linked fingers, anchoring Kurt in place. "I'm not saying _you _should leave. I'm saying _we _should leave. As in go somewhere else. Together."

Kurt's face lit up as he relaxed back against Blaine. "Where would we go, though?" he asked. "Anywhere outdoors is going to have similar bug issues, and the only indoor places likely to be open now are restaurants, and I'm not that hungry, or movie theaters, and you can't really talk at movie theaters."

Blaine was emboldened by Kurt's obvious desire to keep this date going. "I only live about a 20 minutes' walk away. Or a 5 minute cab drive, if you're not feeling up for walking," Blaine suggested.

Kurt shifted to face Blaine more fully. "Why, Mr. Anderson, are you inviting me home with you?" he cooed flirtatiously, batting his eyelashes.

Blaine flushed slightly. "Yes, but it doesn't have to be like that. I just thought I'd offer it as an alternative, but we don't have to do anything. Well, I mean, obviously, we'd do something, but we don't have to _do _anything, you know?" Blaine knew he was babbling nervously, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

Luckily, Kurt had a solution for that. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Blaine's, just a fleeting brush of lips, but it was enough to distract Blaine. "You are adorable," Kurt whispered as he pulled back. Then he let go of Blaine's hand to stand and brush off his pants. Blaine did the same. They clambered off the rocks and started back down the path. Blaine grabbed Kurt's hand again and started leading them toward the edge of the park.

"This isn't going to be like the Ramble again, is it?" Kurt teased.

Blaine let out an exasperated sigh. "I got us out of there, didn't I?"

"Barely," Kurt muttered, and Blaine just shook his head.

When Blaine led them to the west side of the park, Kurt gave him a surprised look. "You live on the Upper West Side?"

Blaine nodded. "Before you ask, my older brother somehow convinced my parents that instead of going to college, he was going to move to New York and become an actor, and that they should use his college fund for an apartment instead of tuition. My parents just held onto the place after he moved to LA, and when I came here for college, it seemed silly not to use it."

"What happened to your brother?" Kurt asked out of curiosity.

"Do you remember those Free Credit Rating Today commercials like ten years ago, with those over-the-top dance routines to that obnoxious jingle?"

Kurt's jaw dropped. "Cooper Anderson is your brother?!"

Blaine nodded glumly. Great. Once again, Blaine had found a way to destroy the date. One day, he would learn to stop bringing up his brother. This wouldn't be the first time a guy had spent the rest of the night fanboying over Blaine's brother, who was now a moderately successful soap opera star.

"Blaine, your brother has got to be the best-looking man in North America. Embarrassing fact number… whatever number we're on now, 3 million?… about Kurt Hummel: that jingle used to be my ringtone in high school."

Blaine desperately struggled to keep his head held high and his expression neutral. Just once, he'd like to be enough for someone, even after they found out about Cooper.

Seemingly oblivious to Blaine's inner turmoil, Kurt continued talking. "I can't believe Cooper Anderson's your brother. Wow. If I had known in high school that there was a younger, better version of Cooper, and in Ohio, no less… well, let's just say I probably would have started stalking you ten years ago."

Blaine's eyes shot to Kurt's. "What? You think I'm a younger, better version of Cooper?"

Kurt blushed a little. "Well, you are more talented and…" He stopped and looked away.

"And?" Blaine prompted.

"And more attractive," Kurt mumbled.

Blaine quickly scanned the street. Other than a man walking his dog further up the block and a group of giggling girls across the street, they were alone. Even so, Blaine pulled Kurt into the doorway of a bookstore with a "Closed for the Holiday Weekend!" sign on the door before gently cupping Kurt's face and tugging it down for a kiss. He made it a little more intense than their previous kisses, opening his mouth a little to let their lips slide against each other and pressing a little harder against Kurt's mouth. "Thank you," he whispered as he pulled back.

Kurt looked slightly stunned. "You're welcome, though I'm not sure what for."

"For preferring me to my brother," Blaine replied honestly as he stepped back and resumed their walk toward his place. "You don't know how often that is not the case."

"Well, I'm sorry your previous dates have all had such horrible taste, but you have sort of brought it on yourself. Bad taste attracts bad taste, Blaine, and if you insist on wearing firework bow ties…"

Blaine laughed, feeling so much lighter than he had minutes ago. "What does that say about your taste, then, Mr. Hummel?"

Kurt scowled, clearly searching for a witty retort as they crossed the street and continued on their way to Blaine's apartment.


	31. Chapter 31

While Blaine checked out at the grocery store they'd ducked into so Kurt could pick up a few supplies in case they got hungry later, Kurt sent a quick text to Rachel. "Going over to Blaine's for a while. Might be home late. Don't wait up."

Her reply was almost immediate. "OMG KURT! BE SAFE! I'M SO HAPPY FOR YOU!" There were about a million exclamation points at the end, followed by an alternating series of winking and kissing faces.

Kurt groaned. If he hadn't been worried that Rachel would panic and call the cops to report him missing, he wouldn't have texted her at all. By tomorrow, everyone Kurt had ever met, plus half the people in Bushwick, would probably know he had gone to Blaine's house. Kurt didn't think anything was going to happen, other than hopefully some more of those addicting kisses, but now he'd probably never live this down. Santana was probably already devising some disgustingly crass new nickname for him at this very moment.

"Ready?" Blaine asked as he reappeared in front of Kurt. Kurt held out his hand, and Blaine laced their fingers together again and led them out of the store.

A few blocks later, they reached Blaine's apartment building. Kurt followed Blaine past the doorman, who nodded politely, and tried not to gape at his surroundings. Kurt had known Blaine had attended private school and had assumed Blaine's parents had a decent amount of wealth if they were able to purchase an apartment on the Upper West Side, but knowing this and being confronted with the understated class of Blaine's building were two different things. Despite his dreams of making it big on Broadway and becoming a world-renowned star and his experience working with Vogue, Kurt still hadn't grown accustomed to being in such elegant surroundings. Deep down, though he would never admit it, he often felt like an inadequate poser, a small-town mechanic's son from Lima, Ohio, just faking it in the big city until someone realized he didn't belong. To see Blaine's familiarities with such surroundings gave Kurt pause – what if their worlds were completely incompatible? What would Blaine think of Kurt's apartment, which relied heavily on refurbished finds from garage sales, hand-me-downs bought for a steal on eBay, and cheap IKEA furniture? Kurt tried to ignore his worries and insecurities as he followed Blaine across the lobby to the elevators.

After a short elevator ride, Blaine unlocked the door to his apartment and ushered Kurt inside. Kurt was relieved to see the apartment looked much more comfortable and lived-in than the lobby. Blaine's furnishings were obviously nicer than Kurt's, with no mysterious stains buried under throws or cleverly hidden scuff marks, but still simple.

Blaine slipped off his shoes just inside the door, and Kurt followed suit, then set the picnic basket next to them.

"I'm just going to put some of this away in the kitchen," Blaine said, gesturing to his canvas bag. Kurt padded through the main room after him and followed him into the kitchen.

While Blaine unloaded some of the groceries, Kurt smiled at Blaine's collection of magnets. There were whimsically silly faces, a few garishly bright souvenirs from tropical destinations, and a smattering of cartoon characters. "You have so many magnets, but nothing hanging on the fridge?" Kurt observed.

Blaine glanced over from where he was pulling two wine glasses out of a cabinet. "I figured it would be a little weird to hang my college assignments on the fridge, and I don't really know what else to put there." He set the wine glasses on the counter, then crossed the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red and a bottle of white. "Interested?" he asked, holding them up.

Kurt nodded and pointed at the white, and Blaine turned to fish out a corkscrew. In the meantime, Kurt reached into the canvas bag and dug out the coloring book and crayons. He pulled out the black crayon, flipped to his page, and signed his name in the corner with a flourish. On Blaine's drawing, he did his best imitation of a kindergartener just learning to write their name, even making the E backwards. He carefully tore both pages out of the coloring book and slid them under magnets on the fridge.

Blaine held out a wine glass and raised an eyebrow when he saw how Kurt had signed his name. "Thanks for making me look inferior."

Kurt accepted the wine glass and took a sip. "I was trying to do you a favor. I didn't want you to be embarrassed by how pathetic your coloring job looked in comparison to mine, so I figured this way you could say it was a child's drawing."

Blaine's lips twitched in amusement. "And it won't look pathetic that I've apparently been holding onto something I supposedly colored 20 years ago?"

Kurt shrugged and sipped his wine. "Don't worry. I'll color you some more drawings so you can take it down and turn the fridge into a gallery of gorgeous superheroes as imagined by Kurt Hummel."

"How generous of you."

"I know," Kurt replied. Then he glanced around the kitchen. "So this is a very nice kitchen, and I will enjoy coming back here later to impress you with how quickly I can throw together a gourmet snack, but…" He trailed off and gave Blaine a significant look.

"Oh. Right. Do you want to see the rest of the place?"

"I would like that very much."

"Well then, follow me." Blaine stepped around Kurt toward the door of the kitchen. "Please keep all arms and legs inside the vehicle, and no flash photography," he added in a slightly robotic tone.

Kurt laughed as he exited the kitchen behind Blaine. They started in the main room, which held a comfortable-looking large couch separated from a TV by a coffee table, with a smaller loveseat against the wall next to a full bookshelf. On the opposite wall, a desk was set up next to a set of sliding doors. Blaine showed Kurt onto the balcony, where a set of lounge chairs and a small dining table sat. Then Blaine led him back down past the kitchen. The doorway on the left after the kitchen clearly led to a small but clean bathroom. Directly ahead of them was a door that obviously led to Blaine's bedroom. On the right, a closed doorway looked like it led to a closet, while another open doorway seemed to lead to what could be a second bedroom. Blaine led them through that door, and Kurt saw it was his music area. In one corner, a small desk held a laptop and camera, which Kurt assumed he used for filming his Youtube videos, as well as a few pages of what looked like attempts at songwriting. A bookshelf next to the desk seemed to hold an endless supply of sheet music. Kurt recognized both the keyboard and the guitar from Blaine's videos. A stool sat next to the guitar, while a microphone hovered over the keyboard, most likely from Blaine's recording last night, and wow, had that only been last night?

As Kurt surveyed the room, the keyboard triggered a memory. "Blaine, when did you say you first came to Warblers?"

"Mid-April?" Blaine replied. "I think it was… yeah, it was Tax Day, because I had been up late the night before helping my friend Tina try to finish in time. So April 15. Why?"

Kurt didn't reply. He carefully set his wine glass on the desk, then reached for Blaine's and did the same. "Kurt?" Blaine asked, his tone concerned.

"Teenage Dream," Kurt whispered. "That was for me, wasn't it?"

Blaine nodded slowly. "Ye—"

Kurt didn't let him finish. He wrapped his arms around Blaine and pulled him close, slamming his lips against Blaine's in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. Despite the surprise, Blaine responded immediately, sliding his arms around Kurt's waist to tug their hips closer together. Their tongues collided in a passionate dance. Blaine's hands were frantically running up and down Kurt's back, while Kurt's fingers explored Blaine's hair.

"You need more furniture in here," Kurt gasped as Blaine planted a series of kisses along the smooth column of his neck.

"There's furniture in here," Blaine murmured into Kurt's ear, trailing kisses along Kurt's jaw. He nudged Kurt toward the desk. "We just have to be creative."

Kurt turned his head to catch Blaine's mouth again, his hands now trying to slip under the hem of Blaine's shirt to feel the warm skin. When he felt the seat of the desk chair hitting the back of his knees, he sank onto it… and promptly went rolling across the room to crash into the wall when Blaine leaned forward to keep kissing him. Across the room, Blaine stumbled at the sudden loss of Kurt's body, which had been his primary means of support, and only caught himself by grabbing onto the desk with one hand, which sent sheet music fluttering around the room.

"Was that a demonstration of your creative technique?" Kurt teased. "Because I have to admit, that's not something I've experienced before, so you definitely get points for originality."

Still bent over and leaning on the desk while he regained his balance, Blaine made a noise that was part groan, part laugh.

"I'm going to have to deduct points for execution, though," Kurt continued. "The dismount was a little rough."

Blaine straightened and made eye contact with Kurt. Immediately they broke out into uncontrollable laughter. Every time Kurt thought he was done laughing, he would look back over at Blaine, surrounded by a mess of papers and doubled over at the waist from laughing so hard, and start again. Blaine seemed to have the same problem every time he caught sight of Kurt in the rolling chair against the wall, so it took a while before they finally settled down.

Blaine was brushing tears out of his eyes when Kurt finally had enough strength to stand and roll the chair back to the desk. He picked up the wine glasses and handed Blaine's back to him. "Perhaps we should adjourn to furniture that isn't likely to move?" Kurt suggested.

Blaine smiled. "That sounds wise."

They ended up back on the couch in the main room, catching up on _Project Runway _episodes Blaine had recorded. Blaine had tugged Kurt into his arms almost as soon as they had sat down, and as they'd watched and consumed more wine, Kurt found himself melting more and more into Blaine until they'd ended up in their current position. Blaine was lying on his back, his head angled toward the TV, and Kurt was tucked between him and the back of the couch, his head resting comfortably on Blaine's chest. Outside, the sky had been gradually growing darker. Based on the fact that even the last traces of natural light had disappeared a little while ago, Kurt estimated it was close to ten, but he was too comfortable to shift and pull his phone out of his pocket.

When the episode they were on ended, Kurt was about to suggest that he throw together a snack using the ingredients Blaine had purchased. Then he noticed that Blaine's breathing had become deep and rhythmic. He lifted his head slowly, trying not to disturb Blaine too much, and confirmed his suspicions: Blaine had fallen asleep. Kurt carefully extricated himself from his position on the couch, quietly clicked off the TV, and tiptoed across the room to Blaine's desk. He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, wrote a quick note, and left it on the coffee table right in Blaine's line of vision. Glancing around the room, he saw a blanket on the back of the loveseat by the bookshelf. He grabbed it and gently unfolded it to lay it over Blaine. After allowing himself a moment to watch Blaine sleep and marvel at the fact that this handsome and amazing man was interested in him, Kurt leaned down to press a soft kiss against Blaine's forehead before quietly letting himself out of the apartment.


	32. Chapter 32

Blaine woke up and couldn't immediately place his surroundings. The apartment was dark, but there was too much light streaming in from outside for it to be his bedroom. He always shut the curtains before bed. As he woke up more fully, he realized he was on his couch, curled up under a blanket. He peered at the clock on the TV: 2:03 AM. He wondered how long he'd been asleep. The last thing he remembered was watching the beginning of an episode of _Project Runway _with Kurt…

_Kurt! _He sat up quickly and frantically wondered what had happened to Kurt. Had he left angrily because Blaine had fallen asleep in the middle of their first date? Blaine was just pulling out his phone to see if he had any messages when a slip of paper on the coffee table caught his eye. He unfolded it quickly and smiled in relief when he saw Kurt's handwriting. "Best date ever," it said simply, followed by a little outline of a heart.

Blaine was going to pull out his phone and send a text, but then he worried that it might wake Kurt up. Making a mental note to send a text in the morning, he shuffled down the hall to his room and went back to sleep in his bed.

Just like the previous day, Blaine's internal clock woke him up around 8. Unlike the previous day, though, Blaine actually felt well-rested… and quite happy. Though it didn't really matter when he went into work, Blaine decided to go and get it over with so he could enjoy the rest of his day.

By the time he got ready and got to the lab, it was after 9. Deciding it was late enough in the morning to risk a text to Kurt without waking him, he snapped a picture of his fireworks bow tie (because he couldn't avoid a fireworks bow tie on the 4th of July!) and wrote, "Look what I'm wearing! Your favorite!" Then he left his phone on his desk while he went to get his work done.

When he finished taking care of the cells, he washed his hands and said hello to another labmate who had come in voluntarily to get things done because she liked when the lab was quiet. While they were talking, he heard his text message noise. Blaine immediately turned his head toward the sound, and Hannah laughed. "Someone's excited. Go ahead and check it. I should get to work anyway; I don't want to be here all day."

Blaine smiled at her in gratitude, then moved as quickly as he could without looking overly desperate back to his desk. Just as he had hoped, the reply was from Kurt. "I need your work address. I have to send condolence cards to your coworkers."

"Only one of them is here, and she complimented me on it. Said it was cute," he typed back before gathering his stuff and making his way toward the exit. He waved to Hannah, who smiled knowingly and gave him a wink as she said, "Enjoy your day!"

"Maybe I should call the health inspector or Poison Control instead. It sounds like there's been some sort of dangerous chemical leak in your lab that has affected everyone's fashion sense."

"What's the matter, can't accept that you might be wrong about this bow tie?" Blaine teased.

"Blaine, I work for Vogue. I am never wrong about fashion."

Blaine sent back a face sticking out its tongue, followed by a second message. "Sorry I fell asleep on you last night. Even though it was by far the best date ever, I didn't sleep much the night before."

"It was more under me than on me, and you're forgiven on one condition," Kurt replied.

"I'm not getting rid of the bow tie, Kurt, so get over it," Blaine sent back.

Kurt sent back a frown. Before Blaine could respond, another text appeared. "Fine. New condition. You have to go out with me again."

Blaine knew he was beaming and practically skipping down the sidewalk toward the subway, but he was too happy to care as he texted back. "Your terms are harsh, Mr. Hummel, but I accept the conditions."

Kurt's response was almost immediate, and they quickly compared schedules to find time for another date. After they'd agreed on a time later in the week, the texts switched back to flirtatious banter and witty conversation, interrupted only by Blaine's lack of service on the subway. By the time Blaine was getting ready to head over to Wes's place in Midtown Manhattan to watch the fireworks, Blaine had learned Kurt's usual coffee order (grande nonfat mocha), favorite Vogue cover (Marion Cotillard), opinion on various Broadway shows (he loved the classics, but he hated the dominant trend of turning children's movies and popular artists' discographies into Broadway shows), and dream of becoming a cat owner (stymied by his current apartment complex's no-pet policy). It still wasn't enough. Blaine wanted to know everything about Kurt.

Throughout the party at Wes's house, Blaine kept texting Kurt, and as the fireworks display started, he couldn't help but think that as spectacular as the show was, it wasn't nearly as magical as a few sparklers on an apartment balcony.

_[Author note: I know, I know, it's been a while! I'm so sorry. I've been battling a horrible case of writer's block. I wanted to give you more than this chapter, because this isn't that exciting, but for now, hopefully this will hold you over while I figure out where I'm going and what I'm doing with this story. I'll get the next chapter out as soon as possible! Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you're enjoying!]_


	33. Chapter 33

By the beginning of August, Kurt had already started to forget what his life was like before Blaine. They'd been on a few more dates (not as many as Kurt would have liked, due to scheduling conflicts), but between dates, they'd been talking constantly through texts, emails, and even the occasional phone call. It had gotten to the point where Blaine was now a part of Kurt's daily routine.

He always woke up to a picture from Blaine, which had started on the morning of July 5th, when Blaine had sent a picture of his bow tie for the day, a much classier purple paisley piece, with the caption, "See? I told you I have taste!" From then on, Blaine had sent a picture every morning. Some days it was a picture of something he was wearing, usually either his bow tie or his socks (Blaine seemed to have a thing for silly socks); some days it was cheerful message or a silly question (like "Do you think pigeons have regular hangout spots the way people have regular bars?") with a picture of something outside Blaine's window; some days it was something Blaine saw on his way to work… one day, it had even been a piece of gum Blaine had found on the subway that he swore was in the exact shape of Stephen Sondheim's profile (Kurt didn't see it and had asked that Blaine refrain from sending him pictures of something someone else had chewed and spit out first thing in the morning, since it was not the most appealing thing to wake up to).

During the day, Blaine continued to be part of his routine. For the last five minutes of his lunch break, Kurt always scoured the internet for the cutest cat gif he could find, after a heated debate on their second date over whether dogs or cats were cuter had started an ongoing gif war via email. When he left work for the day, Kurt would get an email back from Blaine with his best dog gif, and Kurt would open it with a smile as he walked to the subway.

At night, Kurt's nightly skin care regimen just before bed now ended with a text to Blaine as part of an ongoing joke to come up with the most ridiculous bedtime wish after Kurt's expression of "Sleep tight; don't let the bed bugs bite," at the end of a phone call two weeks after their first date had sparked a prolonged conversation on what a weird thing that was to wish someone. Kurt's favorite so far was Blaine's wish of, "Sleep well; don't let your unmatched socks attack you on a misguided quest for vengeance on behalf of their lost mates."

On some level, it scared Kurt how quickly Blaine had infiltrated his life. It had only been a month since their first date. They hadn't even had the official conversation about whether they were exclusive or boyfriends or whatever (and Kurt wondered if that was still something you did at 27, or if proclamations and silly giggling over officially declaring that you were boyfriends was too juvenile now). Yet even in this hazy vague early relationship phase that he and Blaine were currently in, Blaine was already an integral part of his life. Kurt wasn't sure he'd ever felt this connected to anyone, and it had only been a month.

While Kurt liked to believe in the concept of soul mates and true love and fairy tales, he found it hard to accept in reality. Life had taught him that things like that didn't really come true, especially not for Kurt Hummel. Happy endings didn't exist, at least not in Kurt's experience – just when you were starting to think everything was turning around, something went wrong. Rejection letters came, shows got cancelled, producers decided they were going in a different direction, health scares happened to people you loved, boyfriends fundamentally disagreed with your life goals… people died. With things going so well with Blaine, some part of Kurt assumed a catastrophe had to be just around the corner.

If a catastrophe was just around the corner, though, Kurt figured it was worth enjoying whatever he could get with Blaine for as long as it lasted. He actively shoved aside his doubts and his fears about the speed of their relationship and just focused on enjoying the fact that this amazing boy was in his life at all.

With that in mind, Kurt decided to do something special for their 6th date, which was scheduled for the first Friday evening in August. Even though it was a few days past their one-month anniversary (Kurt wondered if you got to count anniversaries if you weren't officially exclusive, but he was secretly counting it anyway), Blaine still hadn't been to Kurt's apartment yet. All their dates since the first one had felt a little more rushed, and they had mostly been meeting for meals and then going their separate ways due to other commitments and obligations. This weekend, though, Kurt's calendar was clear, and Blaine had said "anytime" when Kurt asked when they could get together, so Kurt assumed they could finally have another relaxed date with no real time constraints. He'd invited Blaine over to his place for dinner, but he was hoping Blaine would stay much longer than that.

Almost as soon as he'd invited Blaine, though, he'd started panicking about the state of their apartment. Kurt was pretty proud both of how hard he and Rachel had worked to be able to afford a place in NYC and of what he and Rachel had done with the place, given their limited budget, but it still was nothing like Blaine's place. Instead of a classy stone façade, there were faded brick walls that had seen better days. Instead of a classy, elegant lobby, there was a tiny foyer with peeling linoleum floors. Instead of a smooth ride in an elevator, there was a creaky walk up a slightly uneven and well-worn set of stairs.

To try to compensate, Kurt had cleaned the apartment in ways it had never been cleaned before. Rachel had initially been appreciative, but when she'd woken up at 2 AM on Thursday morning to find Kurt trying to polish the knob on her bedroom door, she'd finally forced him to stop by threatening to cancel her overnight plans for Friday and to instead invite Santana over to watch his date with Blaine and offer running commentary.

When Friday finally came, Kurt was a bundle of nervous and excited energy. For the first time since they'd started dating, Kurt woke up before Blaine's morning text arrived. He was the second person to the office and was cheerful and chipper at the morning staff meeting, causing Isabelle to ask if he'd finally cracked and started consuming caffeine intravenously while he slept. At 3:30, after Kurt had finished all his work ahead of schedule and rearranged his desk and the office supply cabinet, Isabelle finally called him into her office and told him to take off before he started rearranging office furniture. Then she smiled and winked and wished him a wonderful weekend, and not for the first time, Kurt was beyond appreciative for whatever quirk of fate had allowed him to get a job with such an incredible boss.

On his way home, he stopped and picked up ingredients for dinner, splurging at the last minute on supplies for cheesecake now that he had extra time. Between meal preparation steps, he changed his sheets and did one final check of his bedroom. Rachel breezed through briefly around 5 to change and grab overnight supplies, since she'd convinced a few of her work friends to have a girls' night in at one of their apartments. As she left, she kissed him on the cheek and advised him to "be safe!" Kurt's only reply was an eye roll and a sarcastic reminder that this wouldn't be his first time (if it happened, since Kurt hadn't exactly invited Blaine over to have sex, so he wasn't sure what Blaine's feelings were – maybe Blaine wasn't ready).

Kurt's phone vibrated at exactly 7, which didn't surprise him in the least. Blaine was always perfectly punctual, which meant so far he'd always been left waiting for Kurt, who always ran 5-10 minutes late. Kurt shot back a text letting Blaine know he was on his way down to let him in. Before he left, he bit his lower lip and surveyed the apartment one more time. He ran through a mental checklist, ticking off items. The small table that sat at the border between the kitchen and living room space was set with their most charming dinnerware; the lamb chops were marinating in the refrigerator; the side dishes were all prepared; the cheesecake was in the oven; a bottle of wine was open and breathing on the counter. After leaning over to straighten one of the throw pillows on the couch, Kurt dashed down the stairs.

Blaine was already inside the small foyer, patiently surveying his surroundings. When he saw Kurt, his face lit up in a huge smile, and Kurt beamed back. "Someone was heading out and let me in," Blaine explained, gesturing toward the door.

"I should probably warn my neighbors not to let in strange men lurking by the door. You never know when it might be my stalker," Kurt teased as he descended the last few stairs.

Blaine ducked his head and let out a short laugh. "I should probably give my doorman the same warning."

With a quick smile, Kurt stopped in front of Blaine and gave him a quick kiss in greeting. When Kurt pulled back, Blaine smiled and pulled his hand from behind his back. "These are for you," he said, presenting Kurt with a bright, colorful bouquet made up of a mix of lilies, gerbera daisies, and tulips.

Kurt leaned forward and kissed him again. "Thank you; they're beautiful." He took the bouquet with one hand and grabbed Blaine's hand with the other, leading him up the stairs to the apartment.

After opening the door to the apartment and pulling Blaine in after him, Kurt released Blaine's hand. "Welcome to my humble abode," he joked. "Make yourself at home while I put these in water." Kurt left Blaine standing by the doorway and walked over to the open kitchen area. He grabbed a vase and a pair of scissors to quickly cut off the bottom of the stems, then slid the bouquet into water and set it on the table. It was the perfect finishing touch to the place settings.

Blaine set a messenger bag on the floor by the door while Kurt headed back toward the counter. "Wine?" Kurt asked over his shoulder, reaching into a cabinet for some glasses.

"Yes, please," Blaine said from behind him.

Kurt poured them each a glass, then walked back to where Blaine was standing and handed him one. "The meat just needs to marinate for another 10 minutes or so, and then it should just take 10 minutes for me to grill it," Kurt said as he led the way to the couch. "Are you okay waiting?"

Blaine nodded and settled next to Kurt, close enough that their legs brushed. "Your place is great," he said, glancing around at the open living room/kitchen area.

"Well, it's not a gorgeous 2-bedroom on the Upper West Side, complete with a doorman…" Kurt began with a teasing smile.

Blaine shook his head. "No," he interrupted emphatically. "It's great. Seriously. It's cozy and welcoming and so… _you_."

Kurt smiled a little more broadly. "I'm going to assume that is a compliment."

"It is absolutely a compliment," Blaine replied sincerely, his eyes locked intensely with Kurt's until Kurt felt his cheeks beginning to warm.

"Well, thank you," Kurt said. "Rachel and I are pretty happy with it."

Blaine straightened a little, looking slightly more alert. "I didn't even think to ask. Is Rachel here? I should say hello."

Kurt laced their fingers and tugged gently so Blaine would relax against him again. "No, she's gone for the night."

All Blaine said in reply was "Oh," but his voice was little deeper and huskier. His fingers tightened almost imperceptibly against Kurt's, and he slanted a glance in Kurt's direction as he took a sip of his wine. The combination charged the atmosphere with a new sexual tension. Kurt was suddenly hyperaware of the way Blaine's thigh pressed against his, the pull of the muscles in Blaine's throat and the shift of his Adam's apple as he swallowed, the feel of Blaine's fingers tucked between his own… those skillful, deft fingers Kurt had watched move over a guitar or a keyboard so many times…

Kurt cleared his throat and stood. "I'm… I'm going to go start pulling things together in the kitchen." He moved quickly toward the kitchen before Blaine could see the way his blush was deepening or his pants were tightening.

"Can I help with anything?" Blaine called from the couch.

"No, no, it's all under control. Just… um… make yourself comfortable," Kurt replied, and then he wanted to smack himself for his poor word choice as he immediately began picturing the ways Blaine could make himself comfortable, like peeling off those tight pants…

Kurt yanked open the fridge and hoped the cool air would help cool his thoughts... and certain parts of his anatomy... enough to get him through dinner without embarrassing himself.

_[Author note: Thanks to Chrisch for suggesting that Blaine assure Kurt that his place is great, after I wrote the chapter with Kurt's insecurities upon seeing Blaine's place. You are all the best readers!_

_Also, I'm preemptively bumping up the rating on this story because I think I might actually try writing some smutty scenes. If you've read any of my other stories, you might have noticed I usually just allude to them, but I think I'm ready to give it a shot. I'm warning you now so you can be prepared that it's coming, in case that's not something you enjoy, and I'll warn again at the beginning of the chapter with the smut. I will also contain the actual sex scene to one chapter that is completely stand-alone, so that if you don't want to read any graphic sections, you can skip that chapter completely and not miss any of the essential plot. I haven't actually written it yet, so there's still a chance it might not happen, but I'm hoping I can do it. If you have strong feelings one way or the other, feel free to send me a PM/leave me a review to encourage/discourage me.]_


	34. Chapter 34

Blaine watched over the back of the couch as Kurt bustled around the kitchen, preparing a meal that smelled absolutely incredible. Though Kurt seemed to be doing five things at once, his movements were efficient and graceful rather than chaotic and rushed. Since his back was to Blaine, Blaine didn't bother hiding the way he was openly staring in admiration. Blaine had been attracted to Kurt from the first time he saw Kurt. Knowing he might finally have a chance to act on it was a heady feeling.

When Kurt had invited Blaine over to his place, Blaine had hoped there might be a chance of their physical relationship progressing, but he hadn't wanted to bring it up with Kurt directly. He hadn't wanted Kurt to think he was trying to pressure Kurt into anything Kurt wasn't ready for. Knowing that Kurt's roommate was gone for the night, though, suggested to Blaine that he and Kurt were on the same wavelength.

Kurt bent down to grab something from the fridge. His already tight pants stretched across the curve of his ass, and Blaine had to bite down on his lower lip to keep from moaning. He finally turned away and mindlessly grabbed for one of the magazines stacked on the coffee table, desperate for a distraction. Blaine had to cool down. He wanted everything to be perfect later, and it would help if he could last longer than 5 seconds. Which would be impossible if he spent all of dinner a breath away from coming.

He idly flipped through the issue of _People _he'd picked up and settled on an article about a former child actor from a classic sitcom. It wasn't a particularly exciting article, but Blaine focused on it like it contained the secrets to the universe. He wanted to wipe his brain of all sexual thoughts, at least until after dinner.

Blaine was so engrossed in the article, he almost didn't hear Kurt announcing that dinner was ready. It had worked, though: Blaine's thoughts were completely PG-rated, and his erection was under control… until he turned around to see Kurt bent over, sliding the cheesecake out of the oven. "I'm just going to let this cool while we eat, and then I'll slide it in the fridge to chill until later," Kurt explained, and Blaine just nodded mutely because he was afraid of what noises might come out of his mouth if he opened it at that moment.

Blaine took another gulp of wine before making his way over to the table. Kurt carried over a platter of lamb chops covered in a bunch of chopped up things. "It's pomegranate relish," Kurt said as he placed one on each of their plates, noticing Blaine's questioning look. He made another trip to the counter to bring over a bowl of rice and a plate of roasted asparagus and set them in the open spaces on the table.

As Kurt sat down, Blaine resolutely focused his eyes on the rice he was dishing out and not on the movement of Kurt's body on the other side of the table, so close he could almost touch it. He sipped his wine again as he attempted to regain control and managed to compose himself enough to say, "This looks delicious."

"I've made it a few times before. It _is_ delicious," Kurt boasted cheekily.

Blaine tried to smile in return, but he was afraid it came out as a grimace because just at that moment, Kurt's foot brushed against his ankle as Kurt settled into the chair. Blaine concentrated on mentally cataloging his collection of bow ties to try to settle down.

Dinner was torture. The food was exquisite, which didn't surprise Blaine at all, but Blaine's entire body seemed hypersensitive to the smallest touch. Blaine had never noticed how many times they happened to touch in the course of a meal before. A light brush of Kurt's hand against his as Kurt reached for the asparagus. A slight bump of Kurt's knee against his under the small table as Kurt shifted slightly in his seat. A quick touch of their fingers as Blaine handed Kurt his glass to refill their wine. Every time it happened, Blaine would lose track of the conversation while he forced his body to relax.

By the time they finished their meal, Blaine felt like he was on fire. He had never wanted to touch anyone so badly in his life. Kurt, however, didn't seem to be affected at all. He kept up their conversation effortlessly while he slid the cheesecake in the fridge and started the dishes, apparently oblivious to the sexual tension fueling Blaine's racing heart and raging hormones. Blaine started to wonder if he had misread all the signs. Maybe it was just a coincidence that Rachel was out. Maybe Kurt would feed him some cheesecake and send him on his way with nothing more than a few kisses, or if Blaine was lucky, a repeat of their 4th date's makeout session.

Blaine tried to get a read on Kurt while he dried the dishes Kurt was washing and stacked them on the counter, but it was impossible. Kurt just cheerfully continued talking about some of the contestants on the latest season of _The Bachelorette_ as he finished the dishes and started putting them away. Blaine hovered hesitantly, sipping at his wine and waiting for a cue from Kurt.

Once everything was put away, Kurt turned around and leaned on the counter. He eyed Blaine's glass of wine and frowned. Blaine frowned back in confusion. Kurt slid his eyes toward the counter, and Blaine tentatively held the wine glass over it. Kurt nodded in encouragement as he crossed the small kitchen towards Blaine, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. By the time Blaine had set the glass on the counter, Kurt was directly in front of him. Kurt flashed a quick smile, and Blaine's lips curved up in response. Kurt bit his lip and glanced down toward Blaine's lips, before his eyes flickered back up to meet Blaine's. Blaine wasn't sure he was even breathing anymore.

Then suddenly, they were kissing. Frantic, deep, desperate kisses, their lips pulling apart and meeting over and over as they attempted to relieve some of the tension that had been building since Blaine's arrival. Blaine nudged Kurt's body back against the counter and pressed himself as close as possible, both of them groaning in pleasure at the contact. When the kisses weren't enough, Blaine let his lips trail across Kurt's jaw and down his neck, leaving a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses.

When Blaine pushed the edge of Kurt's shirt aside and began licking his way across Kurt's collarbone, Kurt let out a moan. His fingers tightened in Blaine's loosely gelled curls. "You know," Kurt breathed as his head fell back to give Blaine better access to his neck, "I never did give you the full tour."

Blaine hummed in agreement against the base of Kurt's neck. "You're right. I think we should fix that," he mumbled between kisses against Kurt's throat, making his way back toward Kurt's mouth.

"We should probably start at my bedroom," Kurt gasped out.

"Definitely." Blaine's mouth slid back along Kurt's jaw, completing the circuit. "Lead the way," he whispered against Kurt's lips before capturing them in another deep, open-mouthed kiss.

Kurt kissed him back, his tongue sliding between Blaine's lips while his hands tried to tug Blaine's polo shirt out of his tightly belted pants. He made a frustrated noise when it didn't work, and instead settled for running his hands up and down Blaine's back, tracing the outline of his broad shoulders and trim waist.

When Kurt started shifting his hips against Blaine's, causing a torturously exquisite friction, Blaine tore his mouth from Kurt's on a moan. "I thought you were going to show me your room."

"You have to stop kissing me so I can move," Kurt answered.

Blaine made a whining noise of complaint. "Can't stop," he mumbled between kisses.

Kurt's only reply was to prop himself more fully on the counter and slide a leg around Blaine's waist. Blaine groaned at the tighter contact and pressed even harder against Kurt. They continued rutting against each other and making out until Blaine felt like he was a breath away from exploding. Kurt seemed to be in the same position, because he pulled his mouth away and leaned his forehead against Blaine's. He lowered his leg and placed his hands on Blaine's hips to gently nudge Blaine away. After taking a deep breath, Kurt said, "We are not having our first orgasms together in my kitchen, fully clothed like two teenagers trying to hurry before our parents get home."

Blaine let out a ragged sigh. "You're right. Our first time shouldn't be like that." Then he smiled shakily. "Maybe our second or third time, though, because this was…"

"I know," Kurt laughed. "Oh, God, I know." He took a few more deep breaths, clearly trying to regain a little control, before sliding down off the counter. He pulled back a little from Blaine to study his face. "You a little better?"

Blaine nodded. "But still very on edge, so I'm warning you that this will probably not be my most finessed or long-lasting performance."

"I've been about a second away from jumping you since about 3 minutes after you arrived, so I'm not going to do much better," Kurt confessed with a grin. "But somehow I think we're going to enjoy it anyway."

Blaine just smiled broadly and waggled his eyebrows.

"You are seriously killing me," Kurt mumbled, leaning forward to give Blaine a quick peck. "Now come on, before I spontaneously combust." He stepped away from Blaine, grabbed his hand, and dragged him further into the apartment.

_[Author note: The next chapter is going to be exactly what you expect it to be. If you're uncomfortable with adult content, feel free to skip it. I promise, nothing will happen that is relevant to the overall plot – you could literally replace the next chapter with the sentence, "They had sex," and nothing will change about the story. Post-sex adorableness and cuddling will all be in the following chapter, so really, if you don't like graphic smut, please, please, feel free to skip ahead.]_


	35. Chapter 35

_[If you've just stumbled onto this chapter without reading previous warnings in the author notes, this chapter contains a graphic sex scene. Please skip if that makes you uncomfortable. You will not miss any significant plot details.]_

Kurt's bedroom was just around the corner, but it was still long enough to help Kurt gain a little bit more control. He couldn't believe he and Blaine had almost dry-humped their way to an orgasm. Kurt hadn't been that horny and out of control since… actually, Kurt had _never _been that horny and out of control. His first time with Adam had been surprisingly sedate and calm, and extremely underwhelming. They'd gotten better with practice and increasing familiarity, but Kurt had certainly never almost come in his pants while making out.

Once they were inside his room, Kurt swung the door shut. It was partly out of habit, but partly because while Rachel had promised to stay out until "at least Saturday afternoon," Kurt was worried there was a chance she might come back early. There was always the minor possibility of Rachel having a total diva moment and either insulting everyone until they forced her out or deciding she was too good for everyone and storming out. Shutting the bedroom door was a reasonable precaution.

Blaine was standing just inside the door, hungrily staring at Kurt. His obvious lust was empowering, emboldening Kurt to meet Blaine's eyes before reaching up to carefully unbutton his own shirt. Blaine's pupils dilated further, and his breathing became shallower. He lifted his arm as if to take over, but Kurt shook his head. "You do you," Kurt suggested. A short little pause with their hands to themselves might help them last a little longer.

Blaine lowered his hand but didn't immediately start taking off his own clothes. Instead, he watched as Kurt continued slowly working his way down the buttons. It wasn't until Kurt reached the bottom and slipped the shirt open that Blaine moved. In a flash, he yanked his shirt out of the waistband of his pants and pulled it over his head. However, despite the haste of his movements, Blaine took the time to carefully fold the shirt and set it on the corner of Kurt's desk.

"God, you are so hot," Kurt moaned, equally turned on by Blaine's shirtless body and his neatness with his clothing.

Blaine's eyes trailed appreciatively across Kurt's now shirtless body. "I can't even find an adjective to do you justice," he replied.

Kurt toed off his shoes and worked a little more quickly on his pants. Blaine was faster, undoing his belt before shoving his pants and underwear down in one easy movement. Kurt froze, his own pants open and forgotten. Blaine stepped out of his clothes and carefully folded them as well, and Kurt couldn't help but moan again. Blaine's body was a work of art. His muscles were well-defined, his shoulders were broad, his waist was narrow, and his ass… Kurt was pretty sure poets would write odes to Blaine's ass. When Blaine turned back from setting his pants carefully on the stack on the desk, Kurt's gaze zeroed in on his penis. It was about average length, but thick and so, so hard. Kurt immediately imagined how good it would feel in his mouth… or even better, inside him, filling him up so completely…

Blaine was peeling off his socks when he noticed Kurt staring. "Hey! Not fair," Blaine complained, pulling Kurt out of his reverie. "I want to stare too. Pants off, Hummel."

"Oh, God, you sound like a frat boy," Kurt whimpered as he starting sliding his pants down his legs. He kicked off his underwear and socks quickly, not caring that they landed haphazardly on the floor.

Blaine huffed out a laugh. "What the hell frats have you been going to?"

"Just shut up and kiss me," Kurt replied.

"With pleasure," Blaine said. He slid his arms around Kurt's waist and pulled Kurt flush against him. Blaine immediately plunged his tongue into Kurt's mouth, and Kurt responded without hesitation, rubbing against Blaine in an attempt to get closer. Blaine's chest hair was coarse and rough against Kurt's smooth skin, and Kurt shuddered at the sensation. Blaine slid his hands up Kurt's sides and then over his shoulders. With his arms resting on Kurt's shoulders and his hands slipping into Kurt's hair, Blaine rolled up onto the balls of his feet, which immediately brought their penises into closer alignment. Kurt groaned deep in his throat. Blaine rocked back on his heels, then rolled back up, and their penises, slick with pre-cum, slid against each other.

They were still kissing voraciously, their tongues meeting and dancing in a mimicry of their hips' rocking motion, until Blaine suddenly turned his head away. Kurt made a noise of protest at the loss of contact, but when Blaine licked his palm and slid it between their bodies, Kurt's sound of protest turned into a sound of pleasure. Blaine stroked Kurt a few times, rubbing his thumb against the head of Kurt's penis, and Kurt bit down on Blaine's lower lip.

As he felt his orgasm building, Kurt put the brakes on again, pulling away slightly. "Bed. Lube. More. Want more," he mumbled incoherently. He pushed Blaine toward the bed, reached out to yank the comforter off, and fell with Blaine onto the mattress. Kurt rolled to his side and reached into his nightstand drawer. He dropped a bottle of lube on the bed, then held up a condom in question.

Blaine seemed to understand what Kurt was asking, which was good, because Kurt wasn't sure he was capable of stringing any words together. He took the condom and quickly rolled it on, then pushed Kurt until Kurt was lying flat on his back. Grabbing the bottle of lube, Blaine coated a few fingers. He started with one, but Kurt immediately demanded more, so he slid in a second. Blaine moved his fingers along Kurt's anal wall until he found Kurt's prostate, then curled his fingers forward and gently massaged. Kurt gasped and clutched at the sheet below him. "Come inside," he begged.

Blaine eased his fingers off Kurt's prostate, but didn't immediately remove them. Instead, he slid a third finger in, making sure Kurt was stretched enough to take him. He pumped his fingers in and out slowly, and Kurt bit his lip in frustration. He was so close, but he didn't want to come yet. Not until he had felt Blaine inside him.

Finally, Blaine slipped his fingers out and shifted to kneel between Kurt's bent legs. He leaned forward and braced his arms just above Kurt's shoulders and captured Kurt's lips in a deep, wet kiss. As Blaine's tongue explored the inside of Kurt's mouth, Kurt felt the head of Blaine's penis at his entrance and pushed forward a little, and the tip slid in. "More," Kurt demanded immediately.

Blaine eased forward carefully, giving Kurt time to adjust, which Kurt appreciated. It had been quite some time since he'd had anyone inside him. Blaine felt so good, though, it was hard not to push down in impatience. Kurt focused on breathing in and out as slowly as he could to fight the temptation.

Blaine had licked his way up toward Kurt's ear and was doing magical things with his tongue and teeth just under Kurt's earlobe, but he stopped when he noticed how quiet Kurt had gotten. "Doing okay?" Blaine asked, nipping Kurt's earlobe.

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. "Keep going. More. More."

Blaine smiled and pushed forward the remaining distance, until he was fully inside. He closed his eyes and moaned Kurt's name, his expression one of pure bliss. Taking advantage of the proximity of Blaine's perfectly toned biceps to his mouth, Kurt lifted his head and gently sunk his teeth into the muscle, then soothed it with his tongue, which caused Blaine to moan his name again.

Kurt worked his way up Blaine's bicep to his shoulder, leaving a series of red bite marks. When he reached Blaine's collarbone and Blaine still hadn't moved, Kurt made a whining noise and shifted restlessly.

"Sorry. It's just feels… so… gooooood…" Blaine said as he pulled out and pushed back in. He repeated that a few more times, still moving slowly.

"Faster. Harder," Kurt demanded against Blaine's collarbone, and Blaine immediately complied, picking up his pace. With a satisfied groan, Kurt dropped his head back onto the bed. He trailed his hands down the muscles of Blaine's back, feeling their movement beneath his fingers, then cupped Blaine's ass. Blaine made an excited noise and started moving faster.

Kurt chanted Blaine's name in a litany of need as he drew closer to his climax. Seeing how close Kurt was, Blaine slid one hand between their bodies to stroke Kurt's penis in time with his thrusts. That put Kurt over the edge, and he shouted Blaine's name as he came, spilling seed onto both of their stomachs and Blaine's hand. Kurt's orgasm seemed to spur Blaine closer to his, because he began thrusting more rapidly into Kurt until he was moaning Kurt's name and coming inside him. He pulled out and collapsed onto Kurt, his head landing just over Kurt's racing heart. Kurt let his left hand tangle into Blaine's sweaty curls, mindlessly playing with them while their breathing slowly returned to normal.


	36. Chapter 36

_[This scene does contain some brief mentions of sex, but no graphic descriptions.]_

When he finally felt like he had regained a little bit of control over his body, Blaine shifted slightly so his full body weight wasn't resting on Kurt. He curled up against Kurt's side but kept his head on Kurt's chest, listening to the sound of Kurt's heartbeat slowly returning to its normal pace. Blaine turned his head to plant a soft, sweet kiss on the smooth, silky skin beneath his cheek. The fingers of Kurt's left hand were playing with his sweat-loosened curls, while his right hand traced random patterns along the arm Blaine had sprawled across Kurt's chest.

Blaine wasn't sure how long they stayed cuddled up like that, trading soft kisses and gentle caresses, but eventually Kurt murmured, "We should probably clean up."

"Mm," Blaine agreed, reluctant to actually get up but knowing they should. He pressed one final kiss against Kurt's chest before rolling into a sitting position. Beside him, Kurt sat up and stretched his arms above his head, and Blaine shamelessly admired his body.

"Stop it," Kurt commanded sternly.

Blaine's eyes shot guiltily to Kurt's face. He opened his mouth to apologize for whatever he had done wrong to offend Kurt, but stopped when he saw the way Kurt's mouth was twitching with a suppressed smile.

"Keep looking at me like that and we'll never get out of bed, and I think I will actually die if we go for round two right away," Kurt said as he stood and began walking toward the bedroom door.

Since Kurt's back was turned, Blaine didn't bother to keep the cocky, satisfied smile off his face. He climbed off the bed and followed Kurt to the door. Kurt pulled the door open slightly and stuck his head into the hallway. "Rachel?" he called.

"I thought you said she was out for the night," Blaine said in confusion.

"She said she would be, but you can never be too careful. We've had a few miscommunications in our years as roommates that have led to some embarrassing situations." Since there was no response, Kurt pulled the door further open and crossed the hall to the bathroom.

"Embarrassing situations?" Blaine repeated as he disposed of the condom.

"Let's just say I've learned to shut the door tightly when masturbating, regardless of whether I'm alone."

Though he'd just had incredible sex and a mind-blowing orgasm, Blaine's dick gave a little twitch at the image of Kurt touching himself, his long fingers stroking…

He startled when something cold and wet touched his hand. Looking down, he saw a washcloth. Kurt had a matching one and was cleaning off his abdomen. Blaine wiped at a few spots on his stomach. After washing his hands thoroughly, he followed Kurt back across the hall to the bedroom.

Kurt rummaged in the bottom drawer of his dresser and pulled out a pair of loose cotton pants. He held them up to Blaine questioningly, and Blaine nodded. Kurt tossed them across the room, then grabbed a pair for himself. The pants were a little long on Blaine, so he bent down and rolled up the bottoms. While Blaine did that, Kurt pulled on a soft, well-worn T-shirt. He held up another for Blaine, who shrugged, so Kurt put it back in the drawer.

In unspoken agreement, they walked hand-in-hand back to the living room. Kurt released his hand and walked over to a small shelf filled with DVDs and held one up. Blaine laughed when he saw what it was. "I couldn't think of anything more appropriate," Blaine said earnestly.

Kurt smiled and put the DVD in the player before joining Blaine on the couch, snuggling in close as he pressed play. Blaine hummed along to the opening credits of _Moulin Rouge_, and it wasn't long before it had turned into a sing-a-long. When the scene with "Come What May" began, they shared a laugh before repeating their first duet. Then they had to pause the DVD when Blaine couldn't resist taking the opportunity to kiss Kurt afterward… which then led to an unplanned round two consisting of back-to-back blow jobs.

When they returned from their clean up in the bathroom, Kurt stopped by the fridge on their way to the couch. "We can probably eat the cheesecake now."

"Probably?" Blaine teased.

"Well, if I was serving it somewhere more formal, I'd let it chill for a few more hours in the fridge, but it's not going to kill us to eat it now," Kurt explained. "And I don't know about you, but I've worked up an appetite."

Blaine feigned confusion. "Really? That's weird. Have you been doing anything strenuous? Some vigorous physical activity?"

Kurt frowned as if trying to remember. "Hm. I don't remember anything like that. Certainly nothing exciting. It's been a pretty dull night."

"Ouch!" Blaine retorted. "That was cruel."

Kurt shrugged and opened the fridge to grab the cheesecake. "You set yourself up for that one." He set the cheesecake on the counter and reached into a cabinet for plates.

"I don't think you're allowed to take set-ups like that after someone rocks your world. I think you're supposed to be showering me with post-orgasmic endorphin-induced praise."

"Yes, because you clearly need it," Kurt replied sarcastically, handing Blaine a plate and a fork and heading back to the couch.

Blaine settled at the opposite end, tangling their legs together. "It doesn't matter if I need it or not. It's proper post-sex etiquette."

"Somehow I doubt Emily Post ever wrote a book on post-sex etiquette."

Blaine took a bite of the cheesecake, and whatever clever retort he had planned in his head was lost completely. "Oh my God, Kurt, what the hell is this?"

Kurt gave him a smug look, but all he said was, "Chocolate and Irish cream cheesecake."

"Oh my God. How are you even real?" Blaine took another bite and moaned. "My boyfriend is a god."

Kurt froze with a forkful of cheesecake halfway to his mouth. "I am?"

"Kurt, are you kidding me? This cheesecake shouldn't even be legal."

Kurt shook his head. "Not that. Your boyfriend?"

It was Blaine's turn to freeze. "Oops." He set the fork down on his plate and rubbed the back of his neck in discomfort. "Um… yeah, so we haven't talked about this, but… I mean… I'm not seeing anyone else, nor do I want to, and um… I guess I've just mentally started thinking of you as my boyfriend…"

"Were you planning on clueing me in to that, or was I supposed to master telepathy to find out our status?" Kurt asked.

"No, no, it doesn't have to be our status… I mean, you're not obligated… it's totally fine if you don't want to, or if you need more time… I mean, I'm exclusively dating you, but if you have other people you're interested in, you don't have to…"

"How are you so adorable?" Kurt interrupted, nudging his knee against Blaine's.

Blaine nervously bit his lower lip and shrugged, unsure how to respond.

"Seriously. Too adorable. Speaking of things that should not be legal…" Then Kurt's lips curved in a small smile. "To answer your very inarticulate question, which wasn't even phrased as a question but I assume was meant to be one, no, I'm not seeing anyone else, and I don't want to be either, so I have no problem with the label boyfriend."

Blaine beamed. "Let me try this again. Kurt Hummel, will you be my boyfriend?"

Kurt smiled. "I would like that very much."

Still beaming, Blaine leaned forward to kiss Kurt, carefully avoiding their plates. As he was quickly discovering, one kiss was not enough, and soon they were awkwardly sharing deep kisses with their plates still balanced between them. Blaine pulled back slightly and stared at his plate, then back at Kurt, then back at the cheesecake.

Kurt caught his torn expression and laughed. "Finish the cheesecake. I'm not going anywhere."

Blaine smiled and settled back against the end of the couch while Kurt resumed the movie. He definitely liked the sound of that.

_[Author note: So... you all still with me? ;) I bulk-published these chapters because once I started writing them, I couldn't stop, and it didn't seem fair to make you wait either. Plus, you all deserve it for being so awesome. Thanks for being the greatest readers ever!]_


	37. Chapter 37

_[Some sexual stuff is still going down… again. This one does contain some plot too, but it's mostly fluff if you want to skip.]_

The next morning, Kurt woke up alone in his bed. Confused, he glanced over at the empty space beside him. Blaine had definitely been there when they fell asleep in a sweaty, exhausted mess after a long, torturously slow round three late last night. Just like the previous two rounds, it had been absolutely mind-blowing. In just one night, Blaine had managed to become so attuned to Kurt's body, it had felt like they had been lovers forever. Blaine had been so responsive, it had been easy for Kurt to figure out what he liked. Just like their duets, being completely in sync had been almost effortless.

Which was why Kurt thought Blaine would have stayed. Kurt knew he hadn't explicitly issued an invitation to stay overnight, but he'd thought it went without saying that Blaine didn't need to leave.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Kurt rolled his head to look at the clock. 10:19 AM. Still early enough that if he called Blaine now, Blaine could come back and snuggle with him in bed. Maybe they could take a nap together.

Kurt was about to pick up his phone to call Blaine and whine about being abandoned when he caught sight of Blaine's clothes from last night, still neatly folded on the desk. Kurt glanced over to the chair, where he'd sleepily left a set of towels for Blaine last night, because no matter how tired and sexually satisfied he was, Kurt was always a polite host. The towels were gone, but Kurt didn't hear the water running in the bathroom.

Curious where Blaine was, Kurt skipped his usual Saturday morning ritual of lazily lying in bed and got up. After a quick trip to the bathroom, he headed for the kitchen, where he heard movement… and found Blaine, singing quietly to himself and swaying his hips while he cut fruit at the counter.

Kurt shuffled further into the room, and Blaine's head turned toward the noise. His face lit up when he saw Kurt. "You're awake!" He kissed Kurt quickly in greeting, then pulled back and picked up the song where he had left off, now at a louder volume. He grabbed Kurt's hands and danced him across the kitchen in time with his rendition of "For Once In My Life" by Frank Sinatra.

Blaine finished as they reached the table, and Kurt dropped into a chair. "Oh, no. You're a morning person," he moaned as Blaine shimmied back to the counter, apparently doing a Sinatra medley, for he'd switched to "Almost Like Being In Love."

Blaine just grinned and went back to cutting fruit while singing. Kurt got up to make himself a cup of coffee, then watched in amusement as Blaine continued swaying around the kitchen, transitioning to "Fly Me to the Moon," completely at ease in Kurt's kitchen.

By the time he'd worked his way through "I've Got the World On a String," Kurt had finished enough coffee to finally feel awake. When Blaine switched into "You Make Me Feel So Young," Kurt joined in. Blaine's face lit up in delight. He dropped the fruit in a bowl, rinsed off his hands, and pulled Kurt into his arms. They twirled and swayed across the kitchen and living room. As they hit the last note, Kurt steered them toward the couch and pushed Blaine down, falling on top of him and immediately capturing his mouth in a kiss.

It wasn't until a few minutes later, when Kurt was sliding his hands underneath Blaine's clothing, that he noticed what Blaine was wearing. "Where'd you get this?" he asked between kisses, tugging at the loose T-shirt and elastic waistband of Blaine's athletic shorts.

"My bag," Blaine replied, running his hands under the loose waistband of Kurt's pants and cupping his ass. "I figured there was a chance I'd get up before you and want to get in a run."

Kurt pushed up off Blaine and stared down at him. "You already went for a run? How long have you been up?"

Blaine waggled his eyebrows lasciviously and rubbed his erect penis along Kurt's through their clothing. "Around you, I always seem to be up."

Kurt couldn't contain his laughter. He collapsed forward onto Blaine, burying his face against Blaine's shoulder. Beneath him, he could feel Blaine's entire body shaking as he chuckled. "That was bad," Kurt said between giggles.

"_So_ bad," Blaine agreed, his laughter slowing. More soberly, he added, "But you're stuck with me now, _boyfriend._"

Kurt smiled and turned his head to kiss Blaine's cheek. "Why did I ever agree to that?" he teased.

Blaine's hands were still resting on Kurt's ass, and he squeezed lightly as he slowly rocked his hips against Kurt's. "Because of that?" he asked huskily.

Kurt's breath hitched slightly at Blaine's movement. "I… ah, think it was more than that," he murmured.

Blaine tugged gently on Kurt's shirt, and Kurt sat up so that Blaine could pull it over his head. Blaine took advantage of the shift in Kurt's position to push him onto his back and lower himself down on top of Kurt. Rocking his hips again, Blaine dragged his hands up Kurt's sides and sucked on a spot on Kurt's collarbone. "How about that?" he whispered, his teeth grazing Kurt's skin.

Kurt hummed in contentment. "Maybe," he hedged.

Blaine sighed in mock frustration, his breath tickling Kurt's throat as he moved to plant a kiss just below Kurt's ear. He slid his hands down Kurt's back. As he moved his head and bit gently on Kurt's earlobe, he slipped one hand between them to grasp Kurt's penis. With one finger of the other hand, he gently circled Kurt's entrance. The combination of sensations had Kurt moaning loudly. He pumped his hips into Blaine's hand, and Blaine tightened his grip and ran his thumb over the head of Kurt's penis. "How about that?" Blaine hummed into Kurt's ear.

"Oh, God, yes," Kurt groaned, not even remembering what question he was answering. All he knew was that he wanted Blaine to keep going. Blaine obliged, moving his hand up and down Kurt's shaft with just enough pressure to keep Kurt on edge.

"You don't happen to have any lube in here, do you?" Blaine asked as he moved his other hand around to cup Kurt's balls.

"In my living room?" Kurt asked sardonically.

Blaine made a noise of disapproval and let go of Kurt's penis. Kurt made a noise of protest. "Don't worry. I'm coming back," Blaine soothed. He spit on his hand and slid it back into Kurt's pants, his wet hand now gliding more smoothly along Kurt's length. Kurt gasped and lifted his hips to push further into Blaine's fist, increasing the pace. Blaine followed Kurt's unspoken instructions and began pumping faster, then trailed his lips down to leave a wet path along Kurt's chest. When he closed his mouth around Kurt's nipple and flicked the tip with his tongue, Kurt lost it, coming all over his bare stomach.

Blaine stretched up to kiss him, and Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine's neck and plunged his tongue into Blaine's mouth. Blaine shifted so he was straddling Kurt's thigh and began rubbing against it as they made out, making desperate noises in his throat that didn't immediately register in Kurt's post-orgasmic haze. As soon as he realized, he pushed Blaine off him and slid off the couch. Kneeling between Blaine's legs, he slid Blaine's shorts and boxers down enough to release Blaine's cock. After licking his lips hungrily, he surged forward and closed his mouth around it. He swirled his tongue around Blaine's penis, then worked up the shaft, tasting the precum that had collected on the tip. Blaine moaned and slid his fingers into Kurt's hair. Kurt slid his lips back down the length of Blaine's cock, then began to suck. Blaine's moan was louder this time. Kurt wrapped one hand around the base of Blaine's penis, squeezing gently, before repeating the movement with his mouth. Blaine kept moaning as Kurt increased his speed and tightened his grip. It wasn't long before Blaine was coming too, groaning Kurt's name as Kurt swallowed.

Kurt repositioned Blaine's shorts, then sat back on his heels and pressed a series of soft kisses to the inside of Blaine's thigh. Blaine tugged lightly on his hair, and Kurt took the hint and stood. He leaned over Blaine and pressed a long, lingering kiss to his mouth. Then he straightened. "I'm going to go clean up, and then we should have some breakfast."

"I was going to make pancakes," Blaine replied, turning his head to follow Kurt's movement toward the bathroom.

"That sounds delicious, but I don't think I have any milk. Or eggs, actually."

"You do now. I picked them up at the grocery store on my way back from my run."

"Seriously, what time did you wake up this morning?" Kurt called from the bathroom as he cleaned himself off.

"Not that early. 8:15."

"That's not possible," Kurt said as reentered the kitchen, where Blaine was pulling batter out of the fridge. "That time doesn't exist on weekends."

Blaine laughed. "Just because you've never seen it doesn't mean it doesn't exist."

"I'm pretty sure it does. Isn't that how we know Santa's not real?"

"Santa's not real?!" Blaine gasped, and Kurt nudged him playfully as he reached into a cabinet. He pulled out his electric griddle, a Black Friday bargain he didn't use nearly often enough. While Blaine poured the batter, Kurt found a spatula. After passing it off to Blaine, he began to set the table. He grabbed a spoon for the fruit salad Blaine had made, clearly additional grocery store purchases, since Kurt knew he hadn't had any fruit other than a few rotting bananas he was saving for banana bread. They worked in comfortable silence for a few minutes, and Kurt was struck with a sense of rightness, like having Blaine in his kitchen, enjoying a domestic Saturday morning together, was exactly how things were supposed to be.

The sense of rightness didn't fade as they discussed their plans for the day over breakfast. Despite Blaine's suggestive comments and begging eyes, Kurt insisted they leave the apartment, at least for a little while. Then Blaine grabbed the paper, apparently the only other person besides Rachel in their generation who regularly read it in print, and skimmed through it while Kurt checked on some watched items on eBay on his phone. After they cleaned up their breakfast dishes, Blaine grabbed a change of clothing from his messenger bag, causing Kurt to raise his eyebrows in surprise. "A little presumptuous, weren't you? Running clothes, a change of clothes, a toothbrush last night…?"

Blaine shrugged. "I figured it couldn't hurt to be prepared. Just in case. Not that I was assuming. Just hoping."

"Mhm," Kurt replied skeptically.

"What?" Blaine asked defensively.

"Nothing," Kurt said, because as comfortable as he was around Blaine, he still was a fairly reserved person, and blurting out how utterly charmed he was by everything about Blaine and how scarily strong his feelings were becoming was a little much for Kurt. "I'm going to take a shower. Can you amuse yourself for a little?"

Blaine nodded, and Kurt headed down the hall to his room. Thirty minutes later, he emerged from his room to find Blaine, fully dressed and sitting at Rachel's old rehearsal piano that she'd finally convinced her dads to bring from Ohio to New York a few years ago. Blaine was completely absorbed in the notes he was playing and the words he was pausing to scribble in a small notebook, totally oblivious to Kurt's presence. Recognizing the look of someone who was creatively in the zone, Kurt settled into the couch with a magazine and waited, sneaking occasional glances at his sexy boyfriend. (_Boyfriend!_ his brain repeated.)

Almost an hour later, Blaine looked up and caught sight of Kurt. He looked over at the clock and smiled sheepishly. "I'm going to guess you've been there a while."

Kurt nodded. "It's okay, though. I get it. Sometimes you just get lost in the creative process."

Blaine smiled in agreement as he swung to face Kurt more fully. "Yeah, but still, that was rude of me. Sorry. I just… had a lot of feelings, and I had to write them."

Kurt set the magazine on the table. "You really don't have to apologize. If you want to stay and keep going, I've got other magazines I've been putting off for a while."

"No, no, I could use a break. Let's go." He slid the notebook back into his messenger bag, then held out his hand. Kurt slid his hand into Blaine's, then grabbed his keys and led them out of the apartment.

After spending several hours window shopping and exploring the galleries of Bushwick, as well as a stop by Kurt's favorite local sushi restaurant for lunch, they made their way back to the apartment. Rachel was home, so the three of them cooked dinner together while running through a medley of their favorite Broadway hits. After dinner, they opened a bottle of wine, popped a bag of popcorn, and settled in to watch Rachel's collection of _Sex and the City_ DVDs. Just after midnight, Rachel looked at Kurt and winked, then wished them both goodnight in a suggestive tone.

"She's not very subtle, is she?" Blaine laughed from his spot in Kurt's arms.

"If you thought that was bad, just wait until you leave tomorrow. She'll just stare at me and say, 'So…' with this knowing smile until I give her enough information to satisfy her."

Blaine tucked his head more tightly into Kurt's chest. "I don't want to leave tomorrow. Can't the weekend last forever?" he whined.

Kurt tightened his arms. "I know. But we still have tonight…"

"Well, then, Mr. Hummel," Blaine said, standing and holding out his hand, "shall we?"

Kurt grinned and let Blaine pull him up and down the hall. "But we have to be quiet!" Kurt ordered as he followed Blaine into his room and shut the door.

"I can if you can," Blaine said with a smirk after he sucked on Kurt's neck, eliciting a loud moan.

"Oh yeah?" Kurt pushed his boyfriend back onto the bed and proceeded to use all the tricks he'd learned to drive Blaine wild, and Blaine happily reciprocated - which meant neither of them were very quiet. Kurt just hoped Rachel had some earplugs.


End file.
